coven

Set around 1200 A.D

“You know, I heard there was this thing-” Leaning his arms on the wooden tabletop, a young man rambles to the only other person in the quaint bedroom.

“Look, can you please stop? I really don’t want to hear your useless blather, preferably forever.”

“What? I’m just-”

“No, Marice. I do not want to hear any of it.”

The atmosphere suddenly turned constrictive; the young man named Marice tried to hide his pained expression, but if one were to be looking at him at the moment, they would know the subtle attempt was anything but subtle. Leaving the room with a clenched fist, Marice closes the door behind him.

“I’ll be heading out for a while. Don’t know when I’ll come back so don’t come looking for me.” The young man lazily throws a grey scarf around his neck.

“It’s awfully cold outside. I do not think stepping out is a particularly good idea, Marice.” The lavender-haired woman flicks her eye to the window from her armchair. Waking up to a somewhat cold and snowy morning in the Ukrainian forests would have anyone reluctant to leave the warmth of their homes. The door opens with a small breath of cold wind, and the man leaves.

“It’s fine, Niles. Just need to take my head off things for a bit.” Directing a half-hearted smile at the woman, his figure disappears through the white.

To say the village was eerily quiet would be underemphasising its true bleak; without a villager in sight, without even a single inkling of life other than pathetic puffs of smoke from various chimneys, one couldn’t blame you for assuming this a dilapidated husk of a ghost town. A thick, dense forest surrounds the village, further exemplifying the feeling of abandonment this village so easily exudes.

“...Sigh.”

His breath fogs his view.

All things considered, it was actually a pretty clear morning after snow overnight; skies clear of fog, the slight overcast hinting a few rays of sunlight. While the forest is dense, the main tracks leading out of the village implies heavy use - most of the pines were cleared, the path left behind covered in pristine white. The young man decides to listlessly walk the beaten track, leaving ankle deep footprints in his wake.

It’s probably nothing. We’ve all been having a shitty time here after all…

Their trek through remote Eastern Europe hadn’t been a great one so far; endless cold forests for days on end would take a toll on anyone’s mind. Marice was only crazy enough to keep his antics up for this long and only just started to lose his spirit now. It’s been a few months since they left Moscow on a journey to find the fabled Eastern Country through the silk road. While they did expect this section of the trip to be the most physically and mentally taxing, they were in no way looking forward to it.

“Ah. I think I’m lost.” finding himself in a clearing, Marice exhales to no one in particular. Aimlessly walking around an unfamiliar forest was usually a recipe for disappearances, after all. Very unlike Marice, the gravity of the situation actually seems to have caught up to him; anxiety washes over him in waves, his hands start shaking. In an attempt to calm his deteriorating nerves, he rests on a nearby log.

“F-fuck… Why’d it suddenly turn so cold? Swear it was just fine before…”

There really was no explanation for the sudden shift in temperature - was it a product of his nerves? The weather hasn’t changed at all…

“I- think I… really… need to get… back…” shivering violently, the young man falls to his knees, vision blurring. “I.. can’t… fucking move… Aless… Niles… please..” Marice whispers, laying on his side in the snow. Losing consciousness, he tries to send a magical pulse to the general area, however weak it may be.

“Where’s Marice?”

“Out.”

“What? When? It’s too cold to be going outside right now. What’s going on in that daft head of his?”

“He left two hours earlier. I presume that is when you requested his leave.”

“Ah.” The rising guilt does not betray her annoyed look.

Kitab Al-Azif, or the Necronomicon as it goes in the west. The book has the lavender-haired magician entranced; she didn’t even spare a single eye’s attention to the other woman questioning her, but she did give in to the temptation of her personal musing.

“You know, I do have to wonder why you express your worry in such a manner, especially concerning a man like Marice. It may not look so, but it has more of a negative effect than you think - his trust in you wavers, Alessi.”

“I- I... genuinely do not know the answer to that. I feel all of us have experienced quite low spirits recently…” Her guilt-ridden expression now visible, she takes a seat next to Nilam.

“I would consider the use of the current situation a lazy excuse, however hypocritical it may be. Perhaps it is time we talk a little while together; a heart-to-heart, perhaps.” Closing the book, Nilam places it on the small table in front of her.

“Excuse my lack of experience in this field, but I feel both you and Marice share or have the potential for a deeper connection.”

“What?! That’s absurd. There’s no way he or I can understand each other - we are simply too different.”

“I disagree. While your frequent clashes might lead one to believe so, both of you engage in wonderful battles, practice magic and solve many problems well together. Do not conveniently lie to yourself; I honestly wish I could have noticed such things sooner. This is further apparent considering you’ve been travelling with each other for over a significant few decades - you could have easily parted ways long ago if you truly disliked each other.”

“Then what would you have me do?! He irks me to no end at the worst of times! Though for some god forsaken reason I can’t help but worry about him… Whenever he suggests something foolish or risks his life for no reason… I just can’t....” Alessi replies In a fit of desperation and mild embarrassment.

“Place a little more trust in him. Listen to his insane ramblings more intently. I can gather for a fact that you secretly adore his ridiculous chatter - so why choose not to show that? Even just a sliver more would alleviate the smaller catfights, for a lack of a better term.” Even with her tone shifting to exasperation, Nilam’s expression stays flat.

“...It’s pathetic, isn’t it. I wouldn’t even term those as catfights; I am the only one who displays any sort of annoyance while he just continues rambling without a care in the world. While some of the topics he speaks of do irritate me, I rather enjoy engaging in conversation with him. Alessi sinks lower into her seat. Conceding defeat, her cerulean eyes seem to be on the brink of tears as she cups her face with delicate hands.

Nilam gives her companion a mute smile.

“See? You worry for him dearly. Show it a bit mo-”

The atmosphere drops immensely, their hearts filling with dread as a weak magical pulse washes over the room. Alessi rushes for the door with Nilam in tow, albeit at a peculiarly slower pace.

“Alessi! Wait! It could be dangerous out there!” Nilam heaves in pain. At times like this, she wishes her frail constitution never existed. Without a human in sight, she decides to take to the skies.