J. M. Prigmore

Jan 10, 2025 by J. M. Prigmore

The world did another rotation, and so now I am left with only one thing on my mind- how long will it take until I end dates with /25 instead of /24. Bah. So I enjoyed a long vacation throughout the holidays, which was very nice. I haven't had a true vacation in years, so it was a much needed break from everything. You might assume that I would take the time off to write tons of smart words and good plots. You'd assume wrong. I did a little writing over my break, but I mostly did whatever I wanted to do, which at the time, was certainly not writing. I was being as lazy as possible, building space marines and playing so much Final Fantasy XIV that I've found a new addiction. It was, as I said, very nice. 

This past week was my first full week back since Christmas, and as if it knew me, the weather took a cold turn and froze the whole country. Mostly. I love the cold, and most of all, I love writing in the cold. Being from Texas, a cold winter is about as much of a fantasy for me as dragons and magic is. It puts me in a good writing mood, and I was finally able to break my two week hiatus from working on my project and actualy get some words down. I'm in the final stretch now, and I have a really good idea of how I want things to go from this point on. I'm hoping things will keep flowing from my brain to my keyboard smoothly and I can get things done...since now, I really want to get back to writing on Kin-Slayer. I've had a lot of good ideas and I'm itching to get back to those more edgy, violent characters. It was nice to take a break and write something a little more PG, but my American roots are calling to me. I need to write a bloody, gory action scene soon or I'm gonna start to get the shakes. (That is a joke. I'm fine.)

That said, We're getting towards the end of the excerpts, as we're also getting towards the end of the story in general. I'll be keeping up the weekly blog posts until the current project is done, then it'll be back to once a month. To be honest, I don't have a ton to say that isn't just inane ramblings. I have to keep up the illusion that the silly things I say are worth reading, after all. I will say, once we catch up, I may not have two chapters per post. We'll see. 

Anyway, that'll do it for now. You'll hear from me next Friday with another excerpt, and maybe then I'll have a title for this thing. I really need to get a title already. Eh. Until then, 

Make your own fate
J. M. Prigmore

Ch. 13

The next few days were a blur. Yelena faded in and out of consciousness, only barely able to recognize when someone was feeding her or wiping her down. She had terrible nightmares interspersed between long bouts of darkness, plagued by visions of violent scenes of death and destruction, all caused by uncaring acts of nature. Floods, storms, tidal waves, all forms of natural disasters that could kill hundreds in mere moments. Her mind struggled to comprehend the awful things she saw, until at last, she fully awoke, almost a week after her encounter with Tuireann.

Sonya was the first thing she saw, her head resting in the crook of her elbow on the bed. Yelena felt her warmth on her hand. As she slowly took in her surroundings, she groaned as a deep soreness registered across her whole body. Her limbs were stiff, and as she moved her legs to stretch, all of her joints popped and cracked. One of her knees popping was so loud that it seemingly startled Sonya from her nap, and as she lifted her head to figure out what the source of the sound was, her eyes lit up as she saw Yelena.

"You're awake! Hemmy! She's awake!"

Hemmy?

Hemlock jumped up onto the bed and slowly crossed the blanket before stopping just shy of stepping on her ear. He looked down at her, and she couldn't help but pull her hand up and gently stroke his back.

"I am glad to see you well, Yelena," he said, his calm voice poorly masking his relief. She'd come to learn that when he offered himself up for petting, it was more of an anxious desire for him to be comforted than for her.

"I am, yeah," she said weakly. Her throat was dry. "Got some water?"

"Yeah, here," Sonya replied, pouring from a heavy jug into her cup. "Drink slow, and sit up if you can."

Yelena followed her instructions, and she had to resist gulping down the fresh, cold water. It felt amazing on her throat, and as she paused to take a breath, she noticed that both Sonya and Hemlock were watching her intently. She looked between them, only to have Sonya smile and rest her chin in her hands, her elbows on the bed.

"Don't mind us. Drink up," she said, all smiles.

The rest of the morning was spent eating, washing, and cleaning her wounds. She'd awoken wearing nothing but pants and bandages that were wrapped around her chest, covering the terrible burn on her chest. Right now it was only a dull ache, but anytime she tried to move her torso, sharp, piercing pain would flood through her. It required all three of them to unwrap the old bandages and attempt to clean it. Having her top exposed was a bit embarrassing, but at least Sonya was a girl too. She'd just have to get over it. It wasn't as if she had the guts to try and clean her own wound. It was awful to look at, so she tried not to. It was healing somewhat well, but only because of Hemlock's magic. She would certainly have a nasty scar for the rest of her life. Now that she could see it, the strike had left a patch of flash-fried skin directly in the center of her chest, and arcing out from the center were hundreds of tiny fractal shapes that resembled fern leaves. If it didn't hurt so badly, she may have even liked it. For right now though, she had bigger concerns. Such as, the barrage of questions from Hemlock and Sonya.

She explained as best she could what had happened during her encounter with the lightning god Tuireann, and only after repeating the name for the third time did Sonya believe her. Hemlock seemed surprised, but not entirely shocked by it. There was always a chance that a higher power could actually answer such summons, but records of such divine encounters were rare to find, and hard to believe. According to him, the wound she suffered was proof enough. Well, that, and the fact that her heartbeat was different now.

"Different? Different how?"

"Your heart beats three times in a row," Hemlock said, very matter-of-factly.

"What? Let me listen!" Sonya said, placing her ear on Yelena's chest. She did her best not to yelp in surprise. She held her head close for a few seconds, and Yelena could just make out her mouthing "Wow."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"I am unsure, but legends claim that those blessed by the gods are changed after their encounters. Their bodies change, and they become something not quite human anymore. Perhaps, whatever boon Tuireann has gifted you, has something to do with your heart. We will have to experiment to find out precisely what he has done to you."

"I'm not just cursed in a different way now, am I?" she said, only half joking.

"I don't believe so. While I would not necessarily say that the gods can always be trusted, one such as Tuireann is likely to keep his word."

Something the god had said from before suddenly flashed back into her mind, about Tuireann's 'friend'.

"How do you know so much about him?" she asked.

At this point he had been curled up at her feet for the better part of an hour. When she asked that, she saw his eyes flash her way for a brief moment. It was the biggest reaction she'd seen from him since she awoke.

"I simply know the legends."

"He called you his friend."

"Nonsense. I am no friend of his."

"So are you his enemy?"

"No, I am simply-" he cut himself off, starting again after a moment. "I don't know him personally."

Well, that was obviously a lie. Clearly, he had no intention of revealing any more on the subject, so she saved her breath.

"Fine. Thank you for healing me, Hemlock."

"Think nothing of it," he said, turning his head away from her. He was excellent at leaving things out of explanations, but he was a terrible liar.

Yelena spent most of the day in bed, allowing Sonya and Hemlock one more day of nursing her. With how frequently she ended up in situations like this, she had started to feel guilty whenever she was being waited on. Despite her protestations, Sonya had insisted, so Yelena relented. Even though it was a bit embarrassing for her to admit to herself, she was mostly fine with Sonya looking after her. It was Hemlock who she mostly felt guilty about. He did so much for her on a daily basis already.

Evening came slowly, the sun drifting lower into the tree line and casting long shadows from the evergreens that surrounded the cabin. The last of its golden rays scattered through tiny gaps between pine needles and twinkled about the interior of her home as the three of them sat at the dining table, a plate before each of them. Sonya had made a simple stew, and its aroma wafted up towards Yelena's nostrils with an irresistible allure. Her stomach was growling even before the stew had finished, and her diet of bone broth that Sonya had helped feed her for the past few days was a pittance compared to how much she usually ate. Hemlock had once explained that a witch had to eat more than the average human, due to the use of their magic coming from their own bodies. Fuel was fuel, and as she lifted up a spoonful of stew, heaped with finely chopped bits of venison, potatoes, and celery, she couldn't wait to indulge herself. The warmth of the fresh stew was comforting, and although it was a simple medley of flavors, it reminded her of the meals she would get when her mother was pregnant with one of her younger siblings, unable to put in the effort for one of her high effort family dishes.

The three of them sat in silence as they ate their stew, enjoying the good food and the quiet comfort of each other's company. It was moments like these that she always came back to when things got hard.

Crack!

Cat, witch, and hunter all suddenly turned their attention to the source of the sudden, violent sound of something crashing through tree branches.

"What was that?" Yelena asked, rising from her seat.

"Let me check it out. Stay put," Sonya instructed. She always left her bow and dagger at the door when she stayed for more than a few minutes, and she made sure to re-arm herself before heading out.

"Hemlock, go with her please," Yelena asked silently. Her familiar followed Sonya quietly, just a few steps behind as she left the cabin.

Yelena didn't like sitting while they both went out to investigate, but she knew that she could barely even keep her balance right now. If something was amiss, she would just get in the way. Better to wait and see what Hemlock had to report, for right now anyway. Most likely, it was merely an old bough giving up and crashing down to the forest floor, or an unlucky bird of prey. misjudging its flight path. She tried her best to not worry and sat back down, picking up her spoon to continue eating before the stew went cold. She fished in the bowl for a good bite, but as she did so, a subtle chill ran through her.

"Yelena, it is Helvetia. She is injured."

Helvetia? What on earth was she doing here? Hadn't she said that she would be stuck at her coven for a good while?

"How bad?"

"She is aware, but she seems to have been attacked with magic. Sonya is bringing her inside. You may want to prepare to treat her wounds."

"Thanks," Yelena said before jumping into action.

Why would she be here, and injured by magic? Something must have happened for her to come to Yelena for help. She couldn't imagine why else she would come to her and not her coven. She worked as quickly as she could to clear the bowls off the table to make room for the witch. She really needed to get a second desk at some point.

The door burst open and Sonya appeared in the entrance with Helvetia slumped over her shoulder. She was in the same dress that she had first appeared in, but this time she was covered in blood. Some of it was hers, running down her side and arms. Some of it was old and dried, staining her black dress with deep crimson.

"She's not looking good, Yel. Hope you've got something," Sonya said, grunting as she set Helvetia down as gently as she could on the table.

The older witch lazily met Yelena's gaze, smiling with bloody teeth. Her long black hair was matted with sweat and had a few pine needles stuck in at various angles.

"Long time no see, silver witch," she said, her words slightly slurred. Her skin was pale. She must've lost a lot of blood. "Spare a draught for a dying witch?"

She coughed hard after speaking, splattering blood on the table.

"Don't talk. Let me stabilize you, then you can explain what happened," Yelena said, already reaching for one of her sample batches of healing tonics.

She had tested these, with Hemlock's help, and they seemed to prove useful for most injuries. She hadn't had the chance to test them on wounds caused by magic, however. In theory, they should work all the same. She popped open the seal on the glass vial after swirling its contents, ensuring that the mixture was well immersed before helping Helvetia drink it down. She struggled a bit, but was able to mostly get it down without any issue. It would take a few minutes for its effects to kick in, so in the meantime, Yelena went about examining her.

She was covered in cuts and scrapes, some clearly from her crash landing just a few minutes ago. Those would be easily mended by the tonic, but it was the large hole on her left side that was particularly troubling. With the tonic and some of Hemlock's help, there was a chance they could seal it up before long, but she was more worried about what had caused such a grievous wound in the first place. She gingerly placed a finger near the gash, a nearly three inch hole that went all the way through her abdomen. Helvetia sucked in air as she did so, and Yelena pulled her hand back swiftly.

"Sorry."

"Might be best to let me die," she said, her teeth gritted tightly.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm being hunted. Thought I could pop over here before he could track me. Might not have been fast enough though."

"Just," Yelena paused, not sure what to do, "Just rest. You're safe here."

"None of us are," she said, shifting on the table.

Yelena and Sonya's eyes met for a long moment, each of them not sure how to take what Helvetia had just said. Who would be hunting her?

"I'm going to keep watch outside for a bit. Let me know when she's better, okay?"

Yelena nodded.

"Can you help?" she asked Hemlock, who had been sitting attentively just to her left.

"Very well."

The amethyst cat leapt onto the table and stood just beside Helvetia's exposed, bloody shoulder. A soft, gentle green glow began to shine from her chest as Hemlock began to channel his healing magic into her body. She would survive, but not without a nasty scar.

While she waited for Hemlock's magic and her own draught to take effect, Yelena found a few clean rags and began cleaning all the blood from Helvetia, doing her best to avoid any open wounds before they had a chance to close up. The older witch was lying still with her eyes closed now, her chest moving up and down as she focused on breathing. All the flair and personality that Yelena was used to was gone right now, replaced with a woman racked with pain. It was hard to imagine just who could've done this to her, after seeing how she could fight with the ochre flower. Whoever it was, they were dangerous. But at the same time…so was Yelena, now. She'd taken on the god of lightning and come out alive. If Helvetia's attacker came to finish the job, she'd be here to make sure they'd fail. Hopefully they'd at least be far enough behind to allow her to ask Helvetia about some of the details though. The way she spoke seemed to indicate that the person behind the attack was chasing her personally, rather than a random attack. Was it someone who had a vendetta against her, or perhaps just witches in general? For that matter, she still didn't like that her coven wasn't her first choice for support. If she had chosen to flee here, rather than the coven, then did that mean the coven was no longer safe? Or, even worse, was her coven the source of the attack?

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. There was little point in speculating with almost no information yet, and doing so might lead her to form improper conclusions. She'd just have to wait until Helvetia was feeling well enough to tell them what happened. Until then, she'd do what she could to help ease her pain. It would take a few hours of constant magic to heal such an awful injury, so she settled in for a long night.

***

Sonya returned home that evening after some convincing from Yelena, and after some tumultuous sleep, the morning came early. Yelena was awake before the sun had begun blazing through the cracks in the sawed log walls of her cabin, due in part to the terribly uncomfortable sleeping arrangements she'd made for herself on the hard floor. She'd given Helvetia her bed to help make her more comfortable, but when she groggily rose and popped her back, she noticed that the witch was already sewing her clothes back together in the light of a small candle. Her wound looked to be mostly healed, but the scar was large. Yelena was reminded of her own scar, briefly putting her hand to her chest to feel the wild pattern that was left burned into her skin. It had been a rough few days for everyone, it seemed.

"How're you feeling?" she asked, reaching to light a few more candles with a small flame she sparked to life with a snap of her fingers.

"Better. Not on the verge of death, anyway," Helvetia replied, still focused on her sewing.

Yelena had given her one of her own nightgowns, which was a bit too small for the much taller witch. She was a bit confused, though.

"I thought that outfit was just an illusion?"

Helvetia looked up at her.

"This? No, I just made up a spell to quickly change clothes. I assure you, it is very real. And very expensive," she said.

"Want to tell me what happened while I make some breakfast?"

"Very well."

While Yelena got the table ready to eat on, Helvetia retold the events of the last two days, as she had experienced them. Her coven had been attacked by someone, a wizard who had struck their enclave without word or warning. Most of her sisters had been killed or fled, but a few taken captive by the small force of golems the wizard had brought with him. Helvetia had managed to barely escape, only doing so by using a transport spell that she had set up when she was last here. She told few details of the attack, but Yelena could tell that despite her seemingly unbothered tone, she was hiding her true emotions. She wanted to still appear to be cool and collected, the mentor, but anyone would be able to tell that she was holding it all back. She finished by explaining that she got her wound after one of the stone golems had impaled her as she cast her transport spell, which had disrupted the spell's accuracy, leading to her falling from a great height into the pines.

Yelena was shocked, stopping her food prep and watching the witch intently.

"Helvetia, I'm so sorry. That's awful."

"It's nothing. I survived, so the coven survives with me," she said, still looking down at her blood stained dress.

It was clear that she wasn't ready to go any deeper than the surface right now, so Yelena didn't push it. Instead, she readied a plate with some bread and cheese, as well as a cup of watered down wine, setting it down beside her on the bed.

"Eat something. You'll feel better."

She looked at the plate for a moment, her hands still holding the fabric and needle. Her crimson eyes were dim. Her shoulders sagged, and she set down her dress.

"They're all gone," she whispered. "Amith, Ingrid, even Mother Alia. They're dead."

"Helvetia," Yelena replied, unsure what to say.

"And I ran away."

A single tear fell, silently hitting the dress in her lap.

Yelena placed a hand on her shoulder. She couldn't possibly understand what she was going through right now. The best she could do was just be there for her, and help her recover. Perhaps she could help her find if any of her coven survived, but for now, she needed to rest. If nothing else, Yelena could help with that.

"Let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"Thanks," she replied, just above a whisper. She reached for the bread and began to nibble on it slowly.

She didn't know if what Helvetia said last night was true, but if her attacker really was tracking her, then they'd have to be ready. She needed to make some preparations.

Ch. 14

Yelena had never been in a fight with another human before. Her small hometown had been relatively free of conflict, at most witnessing a few petty squabbles or drunken brawls after long days. She'd seen her fair share of fighting against nature, or the beasts of the Dark Forest, but she'd never seen a true fight to the death, much less participated in one herself. To her, the very concept was antithetical to her being. She wanted nothing to do with any type of quarrel, and preferred to talk things out instead.

Sometimes, however, the option for diplomacy was never given.

A loud crash sounded from her cabin, and as she rushed back home from her firewood gathering excursion, she could already see dark smoke billowing into the blue sky above. She reached out to Hemlock, but received no reply. He couldn't have been…no. He would've seen an attack coming. He was just too busy. She needed to hurry back. In the two days since Helvetia had been staying with them, Yelena had recovered her strength quickly, and her magic was fully restored. She could have used her magic to return much faster, but if what she assumed was happening was truly, she would need to be careful. A wizard capable of getting the drop on an entire coven of witches wasn't something one should approach recklessly.

She bounded through the forest, using a bit of her magic to push her along, leaping from tree to tree. She covered the distance in only a few minutes, but she knew that every second counted. She still hadn't heard back from Hemlock, but she could feel magic being cast just ahead. As she neared the clearing, she stopped just shy of breaching the tree line to observe.

Luckily, the smoke was coming from a nearby tree and not her home. The tree looked to have been blasted apart, collapsed on the forest floor and smoldering a few feet from its base. She couldn't find Hemlock anywhere, but she spotted Helvetia on one knee, holding up her wand. Her left arm was limp at her side, and she had clearly taken a hit from something. She was looking up towards the sky, and as Yelena tracked her gaze, she saw the wizard at last, levitating high in the air above them.

And she recognized him instantly.

A grizzled old man with long gray hair and a longer beard, both scraggly and unkempt. He wore a wide brimmed purple hat and purple robes, faded with time and stained black in spots. She knew this man. It was the old shopkeep from her childhood, who had gifted her the book she had studied from. Was he…

"Your struggle is in vain, foul witch!" the wizard called down. "Surrender your power to me, and I shall make your death quick."

Helvetia was struggling to stand, her legs shaky. She was still injured and needed more time to recover. Yelena needed to act fast, but the sudden revelation was keeping her locked in place. Why would such a kind old man be here, attacking her friend? This didn't make any sense.

"Is that all you want? My power?"

"It is what I need!"

The wizard shot a ball of fire from his hand that flashed through the air, and right before it could slam into Helvetia, a barrier of vines erupted from the earth and made a shield over her, taking the brunt of the attack. That had to be Hemlock.

"Who else is here?" the wizard called out. He was too far away for her to see much detail of his face, but his voice was angry, full of rage. "Show yourself!"

Yelena knew now that Hemlock was trying to lay low, and he must have been doing so intentionally. Perhaps he had been waiting for the right moment to strike. Now that she was here, perhaps Yelena could buy him his opportunity. Now wasn't the time to sit by and watch. It was the time to be brave, and to protect her friend. She stepped out from the tree line, summoning Éan beag to her hand.

"I am Yelena the Silver Witch!"

Helvetia turned and looked at her with wide eyes. Yelena had never seen her like this. She wasn't just injured. She was scared. She tried to ignore what that implied about who she was facing now.

"Another witch!? Another soul to add to my own!"

She had no idea what that meant, but she didn't have time to think about it as the wizard leveled his hand and released another spell. A hail of icicles began to rain from the air, but that was easy enough for her to defend against. She did just as Hemlock had, summoning a wall of earthen vines to cover her head, allowing the spikes to harmlessly break upon her defense.

"Why are you attacking us?" she called out from under her shelter.

"Your kind is a blight!" the wizard replied, his voice cracking with rage. What had happened to that man from before?

The hailstorm continued to pelt the shield she had made, slowly whittling away at the vine's rigidity. She'd seen this kind of spell before, but it was usually just a single barrage, not a protracted downpour. Her vines weren't strong enough to withstand such an assault indefinitely.

"I only want to use magic to help people! What's so wrong with that!?"

"Naive fool! Magic is power, and only I can wield it properly!"

He didn't seem to want to hear any of what she was saying, but she wouldn't give up so easily.

"Yelena, you're wasting your breath," Helvetia called out, blasting a fireball from her wand in his direction. He dodged it effortlessly, using the winds to push both himself and the oncoming attack in opposite directions. "Just focus on taking him out."

She hated the idea, but until she had the upper hand, there would be no way to negotiate. It was just the same as when she had appealed to Tuireann. She'd have to give a sampling of what she could do to prove that she was worth listening to.

"Fine, but I won't kill him."

Helvetia looked at her from under her own vine shield. She didn't say anything, but Yelena could tell that she was unsure of herself. She couldn't let that sway her. She had to move.

The ice storm finally ended, and Yelena had a chance to move. She dashed out from under cover, whipping up a gust to carry her skyward. She kept the wizard in her vision as she rose quickly, ascending to his level in just a few seconds. His high ground advantage would be meaningless when they both took to the air. She had no idea what he was fully capable of, but she had practiced flying to the point of it being almost second nature to her. She raised her staff and pointed it in his direction, preparing to unleash a blast of air to knock him to the ground. She was only a dozen feet away now, and closing the distance fast. There was almost no way to dodge her attack from this range, so she let out a flow of magic through her staff, letting it collect in the image of the thrush at the top like water pooling at a dam. Just as she felt like it couldn't hold any more, she let it all out, and-

Nothing.

Not just that, but the wind that had been carrying her died off as well, and she began to tumble. What just happened? She hadn't used any vast amount of magic, so then why had her magic vanished? As she flipped over, she could see the wizard, his hand outstretched. In his palm, a small pulsating light was fading. She couldn't be sure, but she could feel like that tiny dot of energy was her magic. Had he absorbed the magic from her attack?

She could feel the wind return to hold her now, recovering her momentum and carrying her back up into the sky. She came to a halt and faced the wizard, though her confidence was a bit shaken. If he could absorb magic, her options were extremely limited.

"Your strength is now your weakness, witch," he goaded, grinning with sick, blackened teeth.

"Who are you?" she asked, mostly to buy herself some time to strategize.

"I am Ysha, and I will devour your magic," he replied. She could feel him gathering up his magic for an attack, but she couldn't tell just what spell he was preparing.

"I've met you, Ysha. In Eastlark. You gave me a book."

His sinister grin faltered for a moment, and his eyes narrowed. She looked into his yellow eyes, and despite their foggy coating, there was a spark of something in them.

"You…I remember you…my grimoire," he mumbled, as if he was sifting through countless images for the right memory.

"That's right! You made me a deal. I studied your book for years, and I've learned so much. But what…what happened to you? What happened to that kind shopkeep I met back then?"

His expression slacked, and the once sickening smile of a killer melted away into that of a sad, old man. His shoulders slumped, and he looked at her with a blank stare.

"He…I lost everything. They stole everything from me."

"Who?"

His gaze fell to the ground far beneath them, onto her tiny cabin. Just beside it, Helvetia stood with her arm raised in his direction, the bright glow of a fireball primed to fire.

"Them! The ones like her!"

The brief glimpse of the sad old man faded away again, replaced by the savagery of the power hungry wizard. The sickening grin returned as he raised his own hand, moving to meet Helvetia's spell with one of his own.

"Helvetia wait!" she called, but it was too late.

The witch and the wizard launched their spells at each other, both burning at each other with hatred. Before she could react, both fireballs impacted each other, exploding in midair. The pressure wave knocked Yelena back, momentarily breaking her concentration on the wind holding her aloft. She took a moment to recover, then saw Ysha laughing maniacally as he raised both hands high above him.

"There's nowhere to run now, witch! Now you'll burn just like your vile sisters!"

"Don't you dare speak of them, you sick freak!" Helvetia screamed. 

She had her wand pointed out, and Yelena could feel the incredible amount of magic pooling at the tip. It was far greater than anything she'd felt before from the witch, and the massive welling of destructive magical energy made her feel sick to her stomach. Whatever she was about to cast, it was too much. Far too much.

"Both of you! Please, stop!" she called, knowing that it was unlikely to persuade them. They clearly hated each other, and death was their only goal right now.

Ysha matched her insane output of magic, and the air between began to distort as energy swelled within both of their bodies and began to leak out. She'd never seen anything like this before, and she was terrified of getting closer. If she did, she might get caught in the crossfire. Just from where she was, a good twenty feet away from the wizard, she felt like she was still well within the blast radius of Helvetia's wrath. If she was going to stop them, she'd need to move fast.

"Yelena, don't! Back off!"

Hemlock's voice pierced her mind with force, his words prodding her brain like tiny pinpricks of a dozen needles. She winced from the pain, but fell back as instructed. He'd never hurt her with his mental link before, and she wasn't sure why he chose to do so now.

"Wait until my signal," he said, less violently this time.

"But Helvetia-"

"I have a plan. Use your sword when I say," he said, speaking bluntly.

She wanted more than anything to rush in and try to interrupt Ysha, but she also knew that Hemlock was much wiser than she would likely ever be. If he said he had a plan, she needed to trust him.

Helvetia let her gathered magic loose first, and a massive torrent of blue flame obscured Yelena's vision of where the witch had stood before. She felt the heatwave blast her skin, and she felt as though she was inches away from the inferno rather than the two dozen feet she was in reality. The flames roiled upwards and spun inwards, accelerating towards the wizard rapidly. Even someone as strong as he couldn't just shrug this off. Right?

Ysha brought his arms down and returned her gesture with a blast of blue ice, a long pillar of frozen mass that expanded from his hands and fell to meet her flames. In a traditional confrontation, it was likely that Helvetia's attack would easily overpower him, but Yelena knew better than to assume anything when it came to magic now. The ice column started wide, then began to narrow as it grew closer to her position, forming a point as it met her wall of flame. It easily pushed aside her incredible flames, scattering the cone of violent energy and sucking away the oxygen, snuffing out the roiling fire almost instantly. Yelena watched with horror as the spear of ice picked up speed as its size decreased, moving straight at Helvetia now with purpose. What was Hemlock's plan? What was the signal? He wasn't going to sacrifice her friend just for an opening to attack, would he?

Just before the ice would have pierced Helvetia's chest, a wall of solid stone shot up from the earth just in front of her. The wall came up just as the tip passed over it, snapping the end of the icy spear off with a loud crack before knocking the witch backwards, further out of the path of the ice. The growing mass burst through the stone, but the small point flew straight overhead of Helvetia, missing her by inches.

Then, it shot straight down.

A new point formed at a right angle, launching at Helvetia too close and too quickly to possibly dodge. Yelena could only see the smallest glimpse of the ice spike piercing her friend through the heart before the dust from the stone wall's destruction washed over her, blocking Yelena's sight.

"Helvetia!"

Was she…dead?

No. No. No, that wasn't possible. She had come to Yelena for help, and she wouldn't let her friend down. She wouldn't let that happen. No. No! Her eyes began to water and get hot, and she felt like she couldn't breath. She clutched her chest, trying to understand what was happening. This was a dream. It had to be!

No. If it was, she wouldn't hurt like this. If it was, maybe she could have protected Helvetia.

Her gaze shot back to the wizard. A sickening smile covered his face, his blackened teeth and mottled skin reflecting down the length of the ice. He was overjoyed. He had outplayed them and killed her friend.

Yelena's heart began to beat faster, her breath elevated. All she could see was Ysha, her vision going blurry as tears welled in her eyes. The wizard who had set her on her path, now threatening to destroy everything she loved. She wouldn't allow it.

"Now!"

Her heart beat once, then twice, then three times. Then, a surge of power flashed through her unlike anything she'd ever experienced before.

Yelena shot forward, rocketing herself toward the wizard without the wind, without conscious thought or effort. She was propelled forward like lightning, erupting forward with a blast of power and speed she didn't know was possible. Arcs of electricity shot from her body, and much to her own surprise, she could see them as if they were in slow motion, as if they were moving at quarter speed. Either that, or she was moving so fast that the normally instantaneous flickers of light were lasting long enough for her to witness their entire brilliant lifespan.

None of that mattered right now though. She had one solitary goal. She focused her mind once more on reshaping her staff, picturing the form of a blade sharp enough to cut a god, much less an old man. It manifested in her hand with ease, a solid handle with a blade made out of the purest magic. She closed the distance with Ysha in an instant, the corners of her vision bright with blue light that had begun to surround her. She didn't bother with defense or strategy. All she needed was speed. One cut was all she would need to end this. Ysha turned to her with a look of shock. 

Good. 

His yellow eyes were wide, his mouth open as if he were going to speak. She wouldn't give him the chance. She hadn't wanted to do this, but he'd left her with no choice. She wouldn't let this man take away everything she'd fought so hard to build. She cried out with tears streaming down her face, summoning all her strength, all her might, to do what she had to do. Magical power surged through her, coursing through every muscle, every tendon, blasting through her physical limits and pushing her body to the breaking point.

Yelena pulled her arm forward, and the sword followed with her will. It sliced through the residual magic particles in the air, sending sparkles of bursting white light in its trail as they erupted. With a single swipe, and with all of her might, she pulled the sword through the wizard's chest, exiting through his back. She felt no resistance as the magic blade passed through him, slicing his soul, his well of magic in two. For a brief moment, both Yelena and Ysha hovered in the air. It was as if the world had frozen, unable to match the speed at which she had just moved.

Then, it struck. Lightning from the heavens cracked with an explosion of energy down through the wizard’s body, the blast of power sending a shockwave through the air that made the tops of the pines bend and snap. The tears trailing down Yelena’s face burst into steam as pure magical energy poured from her body and found a good conductor, and as the roar of the incredible attack finally died down, she could hear a soft, weak voice speak.

"Well done, child."

Yelena looked to the voice, seeing Ysha's previously hideously contorted face now turned to a solemn smile. His eyes were dull, and as he began to fall backward, she couldn't help but see that same old man who had set her on this path all those years ago one last time. His body plummeted to the soft earth beneath them, landing in a cloud of dust as Yelena continued to hover. Lightning radiated from her skin, arcing and popping with wild, uncontrollable power. Her body felt amazing, more responsive and lighter than she'd ever felt. This must have been Tuireann's boon. This sudden incredible surge of power through her body could only be a divine influence. If this was what the deity had given her, then she was glad she hadn't accidentally triggered it until now. She could feel the air around her becoming charged with energy, and her hair was beginning to stand on end. She had no idea how to turn off this power though. Was this going to be her new constant?

"Yelena, please come down," Hemlock asked, surprisingly politely, considering the circumstances.

Wait. Helvetia.

All at once, her body's new energy abandoned her in a pulse of lightning that quickly dissipated into the surrounding air with a loud pop!

"I'm coming!"

For just a few seconds, she'd forgotten about her friend. The rush of it all must've taken hold of her, and as she breathed out the last of the supernatural energy that had flowed through her, her heart sank as her mind replayed the final image she'd seen of the witch. Ysha's ice had hit her, right in her chest. Her own rage and anger had blinded her to that fact, leaving her with only the ability to eliminate the current threat in front of her. She'd never felt anything like that. Such pure hatred for another person, such cold rage and definite purpose. Was that from Tuireann's boon, or…

Her feet touched the ground at last, and as she began top sprint over to where Hemlock and Helvetia were, she didn't like what she saw. There was a pool of blood on the ground beneath the witch, and her breathing was shallow. Hemlock stood beside her, his eyes closed as he concentrated on casting healing magic on her wound. Dull green light glowed from the hole in her chest, but from where it had struck, Yelena was sure that it had pierced her heart. She wasn't confident that even Hemlock's magic could mend such a fatal wound.

"Helvetia," she said, kneeling beside her. "Can you hear me?"

Helvetia slowly opened her eyes and met Yelena's.

"You got him, huh? Show off," she said weakly. Her skin was just as pale as it had been when she'd crashed into the forest just a few days ago.

"Why didn't you come find me?" she asked, reaching out to grab her hand. Her arm was practically limp.

Her gaze shifted to the side for a moment before she spoke.

"I wanted to take him alone."

"Helvetia."

She moved her head, then winced in pain. In Yelena's head, Hemlock spoke.

"I do not believe I can save her like this."

Yelena shut her eyes tight for a moment. She wanted to cry, to berate Helvetia for trying to take on the wizard by herself, to blame herself for not acting fast enough. A weight was pressing down on her chest, one that she knew she couldn't do anything about. Guilt. Another person hurt because of her failings, because she wasn't where she needed to be, because she wasn't good enough. Only this time, she wouldn't get a chance to make it up. This was it.

Which was why, for right now, this wasn't about her and her own shortcomings.

"What was the name of your coven?"

Helvetia looked to her, a little confused.

"Why?"

"Please."

She smiled as a thin trail of blood ran from the corner of her cherry red lips.

"Caladh."

"I'll carry on their name. I promise you."

Yelena grasped her hand, holding it tight as she struggled to fight back the tears. There was still so much that she had wanted to talk to Helvetia about, and now she would never get the chance. The witch was still mostly a mystery to her, but she had come to cherish the odd relationship they'd forged in their short amount of time together. She didn't want it to end this way, not with so much left for them to do and learn together. It just wasn't fair.

"Forgive me, Yelena."

Hemlock's voice was odd. He sounded remorseful, as if he had done something wrong.

"What for?"

"For lying to you all this time."

Yelena looked at the amethyst colored cat, more confused than anything, but before she could speak, a wave of magical energy pulsed from his body, causing her to stagger back and drop Helvetia's hand.

"What are you…"

She failed to finish the sentence, instead taken by the sight playing out before her. The magic that was swirling around Hemlock and Helvetia was deep violet, so dark and thick that it made it hard to see what was actually going on. She hadn't seen magic take such a tangible, physical appearance before. Not since her encounter with Tuireann, that was. The magic swallowed them both up in its shadowy maw, but through gaps in the darkness Yelena could barely witness something incredible. The wound on Helvetia's chest began to close rapidly, regrowing the skin and muscle beneath in mere moments. It was healing magic the likes of which she'd never seen before, much more powerful than anything she could possibly imagine. At the same time, a gash appeared on Hemlock's chest, and his small form struggled to stand as the pain of the shared wound began to wrack his body. Fresh blood began to ooze from the hole in his chest, and all Yelena could do was watch in horror. She was too shocked, too scared to intervene. She had no idea what was going on, and the awful macabre sight was nearly too much for her right now. The wound on Hemlock's chest began to close up as well, but not nearly as seamlessly and cleanly as it had on Helvetia. It was rough, leaving scars and a patch of torn fur in its wake. Yelena put her hands to her mouth, unable to process what it was that was happening, knowing only that it wasn't natural. It was something primal, something dark.

The magical torrent ceased, and the dark energy abated back into nothingness at last. Hemlock was breathing hard, struggling to stand on his own. Helvetia was lying motionless on the ground, but she was breathing. Where once there was a mortal injury, her flesh was now mended and perfectly healthy. It was almost like the cat had taken the injury on in her stead, leaving her perfectly alive and well while shouldering all the burden of the pain himself.

Was this…had he been doing this for her all this time? Had Hemlock been facing the consequences for all of her mistakes? Why hadn't he told her, or at least made her aware of it in some way? What was the point in hiding it, and for so long?

Yelena was left flailing helplessly in a sea of questions, all of which led back to one very obvious answer that she couldn't quite bring herself to admit. It was too harsh a reality, too painful a concept for her to come to terms with right now.

Helvetia gasped and her eyes shot open. She glanced around at her surroundings quickly, her breath fast and harsh.

"You didn't…" she said, her gaze falling on Yelena. Her expression wasn't what Yelena had expected of someone who had just a moment ago been on the verge of death. Instead, she looked at her as if she was something pitiable. "You stupid, stupid cat."

"What is this? What did you just do?"

Hemlock, slowly regaining his composure, took a breath before speaking aloud for both of them to hear.

"I devoured her pain."

"What does that mean?" Yelena asked, her voice rising in volume.

"It is my nature, Yelena. It is how I am fed."

"You eat pain?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"Then why are you hurt as well?"

"That is…" Hemlock trailed off, unable, or unwilling, to answer.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She could feel her face getting hot. She was angry. She was hurt. She wasn't entirely sure what all she was feeling, but she was on the verge of bursting.

"It is my burden to bear, Yelena. Not yours."

"Do you not-" the words blurted out, only momentarily paused by her own throat seizing up as the truth was on the cusp of being voiced, "You don't trust me?"

Hemlock's eyes widened, and his mouth moved to speak, but words failed him.

"Yelena, it isn't like that," Helvetia chimed in, but Yelena could barely register her words.

"Did you ever trust me?"

Yelena spoke without thinking, voicing her true thoughts. Putting them to words was like ramming a blade into her own heart, but she had to know. She had to ask.

"Of course, Yelena, but I-"

"Then why!? Why would you hurt yourself just for me!? We're supposed to be a pair, and we're supposed to be honest! So why!?"

The moments of silence that lingered after her question were harrowing.

"Because I knew you would never allow it, had you known the consequences."

Yelena didn't know how to respond. He was right though. If she'd known that every stupid mistake she made would have to be paid for by Hemlock, she'd have given up on magic and gone back home. The very last thing she wanted to to accrue debt to those around her, but to have been physically injuring her best friend every time she failed in a task…that was just too much. He was right. She never should have known about this.

"Yelena, there is much to this you may not understand. Please, calm down," Helvetia said, doing her best to sit up. "Don't think less of him for this."

Yelena wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel. This was all just too much right now. Her home had been attacked, her friend had almost died, and her familiar had been lying to her this whole time. She looked over to the limp body of Ysha, the wizard who had set her on this path. He lay still, his eyes wide, his mouth agape. Life had long left his body, due to Yelena's attack. She hadn't struck him physically, instead destroying his spirit, his source of magic. She had killed him. She killed him. She'd killed a person.

Oh gods.

The sudden realization was just too much. As she stared into his lifeless eyes, her stomach flipped, and without any warning her breakfast came back up. She emptied her stomach's contents on the ground, collapsing to her knees as her mind spun in aimless circles. She was dizzy, and her vision blurred and began to twist.

"Yelena," Hemlock said, but she could barely hear him.

Once she was done vomiting, she couldn't tear her eyes away from Ysha's. His yellow irises were hollow, devoid of light and life. They would never again take in the beauty of the world, never again see another human face, never again see something they loved…because of her. Those blank eyes stared back at her, and she knew right then that she'd never be able to break their gaze. Never.

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