Chapter IV - The Dreg

Aoife when you read this I will be dead, I read about my end long before it happened so I have had time to prepare. Mind I am disappointed you performed the rite but it was honestly the best choice before you, as you may have guessed Dolus has killed me, do not pursue him doing so will doom us all. Also forget about the coven for now and heed these words and do not stray from them, when you summoned Furbaide you have stirred the dragon Dreq from the Otherworld. Upon arrival he will burn all of Crel with his ichor, his coming may be the end of this world even if you follow my instructions it isn't guaranteed, but it is the only way the world will live on.

The gods have left us and the living gods are all gone, Furbaide is the only one in Crel with divine blood, only he can tame the behemoth that is Dreq and banished him to the Otherworld. It will be more treacherous to do this unarmed, mortal crafted weapons are useless, which is why before my death I have contacted the goblins smiths to the north west from here, you'll find them not part past the forest of Ulaid. their smithy is inside of a cave on the side of a cliff. I have already paid them in full so don't be fooled by their sly trickery, they will be done with the spear I commissioned by the time you arrive

Once you get it travel to the deep fog northwards where the castle Ulaid once stood, go there and await the dragon. If all goes well Furbaide will compel Dreq back into the fog, I cannot say anymore yet it jeopardize the most favorable fated outcome. Know dear child I have always loved you as I have all in our sisterhood, also know that you have always been meant for great things and my only regret is not living to witness your future happiness with my own eyes. Also note that I knew it was you who put my spiders in Meab's bed when you were girls, I've always known.

Goodbye Aoife live a good life and do what you know is right.

With all love, your Spider Mother.

Happiness and sadness mixed in Aoife's mind, something that Spider Mother managed to do so well, even in death. Finding the letter sealed in a scarlet envelope on a table, it wasn't covered in dust or webbing so it stuck out over everything else in the house. When she found it she wanted to be alone to read it she asked Furbaide to stay outside, until she read the note. Once she read through it she read it again, and again, until she memorized the letter in her mind..

Clearly the Spider Mother wanted Aoife to have Furbaide deal with Dreq, a beast that only the gods could make heel, her desire to save her coven was in conflict with the Spider Mother's dying request. Putting the letter in her bag she looked around the dwelling one more time before she left, imagining what it would look like when time passes. The rotting of her furniture, the fabric she weaved fading away, nothing of her home or belongings would last, such a thought made her feel grim; Aoife decided she had enough sorrow in her heart, leaving the dwelling she closed the door behind her and looked around for Furbaide. Expecting him to be by the door, instead she saw him standing over the freshly made grave, the mound of soil was the only marking to where she was buried.

At first Aoife thought he had an expression of stoic apathy but as she came closer she saw his brow furrow and his eyes become glassy, turning his head as he saw Aoife approach.

"Will you be alright to continue?" said Furbaide, turning to face her with a unfaltered expression, but in his blue eyes Aoife saw pain.

"I shed my tears," she said, "we have to go north past the forest, come we mustn't waste time I know of a quick way to get through the forest."

Walking down the cliff stairs Aoife told Furbaide what was in the Spider Mother's letter, making it clear that was their new objective as it had more urgency than even saving her coven. Furbaide told Aoife of his prisoner in the Otherworld, Arawn and how he probably called upon the slumbering dragon to retrieve him, without realizing or caring that Dreq would most likely destroy all of Crel instead. Furbaide told Aoife that even if she didn't command him that he'd still fight Dreq, as he did not want his home to become the hell he was imprisoned in for so long. Aoife greatly appreciative of Furbaide's commitment told him of the Spider Mother's instructions to see the goblin smiths in the north for the weapon she commissioned for them, Furbaide complimented the deceased Crimson Witch matron for her power insight.

Grateful for the living god's praise Aoife urged them to hurry on, and after a few hours they were within eyesight of the next stop of their journey. Aoife pointed out into the expanse of green trees and brushes, Furbaide looked out and saw a blackened stain on the green landscape of his old domain. Blackened trees stood as if they were jagged monoliths rising from the rough charred soil that irritated the his eyes to look upon, such horrific ugliness he found very unsettling.

"What is that?" he said, rubbing his eyes "it looks so horrible."

Aoife heard the disgust in Furbaide's voice, it was clear he was offended by the unnatural damage to that patch of forest.

"That is where dragon ichor burned, you see a few generations ago before my time the Crimson Witches conjured a dragon there," Aoife said, speaking as she lead the way towards the charred site.

"Why would they do something so ridiculous?" Furbaide said, unsure as to why mortals tamper with such primordial powers.

"Same reason someone would be ridiculous enough to summon a living god," Aoife said, "because we needed to."

Furbaide sensed her anxiety as Aoife started to understand more that she is to blame having Dreq coming to Crel, her reckless actions were taunting her conscious. Whatever harm Dreq would do to Dreq and it's people would be on her head.

"What dragon was it?" Furbaide said, asking a question to distract Aoife from her own growing guilt.

"The leviathan," Aoife said, there was a silence between them, as both knew very well of only one dragon with that particular title.

Furbaide remembered that in all of the centuries he dwelled in Crel there was only one dragon that even the mountain gods feared, that was the leviathan. Whose true name is so powerful it was purged from recorded history, those who know of its name would not speak it aloud, because the utterance of the leviathan's is an ill omen of death and natural disasters.

"Why would they summon it?" Furbaide said, a harsh tone of shock and anger in his voice. "The gods would've punished such woeful stupidity."

"They were not around anymore," said Aoife "the gods were gone by then and our need was dire, we tried to call the gods back to us, but it didn't work. You don't understand we had no divine protection against the growing evils of the world, I was been born into a world where the memory of the gods is fading."

Furbaide remembered before his exiled how mortals flourished in the care of the gods, before the gods came mortals sought guidance from more malevolent sources. Understanding what Aoife was saying Furbaide decided not to speak further on her coven's stupidity on the matter, but he was still curious about what happened.

"How did they send it back?" Furbaide said, not sure how the witches could've managed such a powerful feat of banishing the leviathan.

Aoife was silent, she seemed unsure how to answer as they came closer to the blackened clearing.

"There are many stories to it," she said "so I cannot say what is true, I can only say what I was told as, from what they told me the summoners forced it back with the power of their combined magic."

Furbaide scoffed at hearing the explanation, that earned a nasty glare from Aoife, although it was true she didn't believe it either Furbaide's contempt for her coven's power made her angry. Deciding it is best to withhold her anger she sped up towards the blackened ground, she was no longer in the mood to speak more about her coven. Eroded and soft as sand it was clear the ground was still hasn't healed from the ichor even after so many years, the blackened trees and barren grounds was evidence of that, even the animals avoided coming near it; a near suffocating stench filled their nostrils as they came close to the blackened spot. The smell was very powerful and carried with it the feeling of death of the natural energy that once flowed through the grass and trees.

"Why are we here, aren't we supposed to head northwards?" said Furbaide, "I don't see anything here but blackened dirt."

They were deeper in the forest and the density of their surroundings would double their time travelling due to merely navigating through the wilderness; the forest of Ulaid had become denser over the years, old roads and path were overgrown with plant life, to traverse without knowing of any trails under the brush would take weeks. Unsure how to precede Furbaide noticed Aoife sketching something into the blackened soil, was it symbols for a magic portal? Or perhaps summoning ritual for a flying beast? Or perhaps it was so fantastical Furbaide couldn't even conceive what it might be, to his surprise it was none of those possibilities.

Aoife sketched a line of runes in the soil then conjured fire to her fingertips and lit up each etched ruin like a candle, she then searched for a piece of charred, one that was neither too thick or too thin. It took only moments for Aoife to pick a small shrivelled tree whose roots had given out, with a tug she pulled it out of the ground, when she did that the roots snapped off. Long, thin, but still dense Aoife deemed it perfect for her use. Bringing the branch over to the fire lit runes she then pressed it against the runes until the fire faded from the runes.

Lifting it up from the dirt she showed Furbaide with a triumphant smile that she made a dowsing stick, a magical instrument used to find your way to your destination by the quickest, most traversable means. Dowsing sticks can only be made by wood that has been bathed in strong energies, Aoife and the other witches when they came through the forest would use wood from the blackened spot to find their through the thicker parts of the forest.

"I am surprised by how basic your solution is," Furbaide said, making it known he was unimpressed.

Aoife said nothing but handed him the stick and traced her fingers along the runes that glowed a bright orange. Suddenly Furbaide's hands became stuck onto the stick, unable to let it go he was pulled and pushed back and forth, left and right, until the stick pointed to a section of the forest and then was pulled towards the dense wilderness. Thorn bushes, itchy plants, and rough bark brushed against his durable skin as his body made a path through the less dense parts of the forest, through sheer force his body was used to pave a way for Aoife. Following a short distance away Aoife was pleased with her solution as their journey northwards would be far easier, for her at least; she estimated at their current pace they would arrive at the north edge of the forest by early next morning.

Accounting for short breaks her estimation proved accurate as Furbaide's body carve passageway through the forest without pause. Feeling no pain Furbaide was not harmed in his efforts but was irritated by being used without by a the witch without consent, feelings of resentment started to form once again. The anger he felt when he was first forced into her servitude had diminished, witnessing her strengths and vulnerabilities endeared her to him, but he suspected she only considered him her a tool. Humid weather of the dense wilderness was lessened by the cooling shade of the trees that towered over their heads, the smell of fresh greenery and the sound of birds singing eased Furbaide's mind.

Enjoying the nature around him perked up his spirit, the pleasing heat of the season which he loved so much allowed him to become more relaxed as he continued to tear through the forest. Hours passed and he still continued without tiring until Aoife called for him to stop, stopping where he stood he walked over to her, she sat down in small clearing that Furbaide charged past. Being a living god Furbaide did not tire out like mortals, he could go through the forest from one end to the other countless times over without tiring Still he appreciated the break that was offered as he sat down and accepted a drink from Aoife's flask that she handed to him, clean water that moistened his throat and cooled his insides.

"Enchanted flask?" Furbaide said, as he handed back the flask wondering what made t taste as though it just came from a stream.

"No," Aoife said, taking a drink herself. "It is how the water is in the eastern mountains, always cold, takes forever to boil."

Furbaide laughed, feeling his irritation and resentment towards the witch start to fade, he smiled broadly afterwards as he realized her lips indirectly touched his own.

"Didn't bother wiping off the flask?" he said, looking at her with his deep blue eyes and a charismatic smile Aoife wasn't sure what Furbaide meant.

Taking another drink she suddenly stopped and blushed a peachy pink, she then smacked Furbaide's forearm, which made him laugh aloud.

"Keep that up and I'll make you go the rest of the way with no break." she said, a threatening tone in her voice.

Not wanting to test her patience he kept quiet but didn't stop smiling, he leaned back as he sat on the ground and felt the warmth of the day on his skin. Aoife undid part of her upper garments and put it on the ground in a folded pile to feel less of a burden on her shoulders, doing so revealed her lean muscular arms, Furbaide's eyes looked up and down her neck. Adjusting himself Furbaide raised one of his knees as he looked at Aoife who leaned back further, causing her to expose part of her firm torso. Discreetly he scanning the witch's body but that proved problematic for Furbaide as he felt a stirring under his toga around his groin.

Fighting against his own bodily reactions he lifted up the stick and decided to continue to carve a path through the forest.

"I wish to stretch my legs, I'll continue on ahead," he said "catch up to me when you're ready."

Before she could say anything he left and started clearing out a path with the stick guiding his way, Aoife was confused as to why the Furbaide decided to go, he seemed to enjoy their break. Did she do something? Not wanting friction between them since there was plenty of that the warrior witch decided from then on to act friendlier towards Furbaide, she did not like animosity between them and wanted to salvage a friendly relationship from their circumstance. Meeting the deity she admired in legends was a mixed bag to say the least, sometimes he shows godlike qualities, and others times he acts like a rude pervert.

Remembering how Furbaide consoled her early that day, when the fresh wound of loss was open Furbaide's comfort made it heal quickly, that was something she deeply appreciated. Putting on her discarded garb and putting away her flask she resolved to be show Furbaide she wasn't ungrateful for his help and care. Jogging after Furbaide she started to enter the body shaped tunnel through the foliage when Aoife heard a familiar sounding twang sound out somewhere in the forest. Ducking down quickly she rolled aside and once clear of where she once stood she heard the impact of a arrow imbedding itself in the side of a tree.

Digging into the bark the arrows head jammed into the tree along with half the shaft, the arrow was black and was glossy as it was clearly coated with some kind of poison. Dashing into the dense brush Aoife planned on hiding in the underbrush of the forest to get out of sight of her assailant, whose position Aoife started to pinpoint. Calculating where the arrow landed and what direction it seemed to come Aoife deduced the assailant's position was in a cluster of towering trees to north east. Sure enough the witches sharp eyes saw a figure hiding in the heavy foliage of the tree, positioned on a large branch the would be assassin seemed to be scanning the forest for his target.

Focusing on sharpening her sight she tried to see clearly who it was that shot the arrow, so she would know how to best deal with her attacker. A twang sounded out and she hid behind a tree out of direct line of fire. Before the arrow made impact her gut told her to get further away from the impact area. Dashing through the underbrush she hid behind another tree just as the arrow hit the ground, luckily she listened to her gut for a glass flask was tied to the arrow which shattered when the arrow hit the ground, smashing into a thousand fragments releasing a strong gas that if she hadn't moved would have suffocated her to death.

The dark blue gas spread covering more a of the forest with its toxic essence, feeling traces of the gas seep up her nostrils brought tears to her eyes. A dryness then started in her throat that felt as if she was being strangled, she moved further away from the smoke once she left the cover of the tree three more twangs sounded in quick succession. More arrows rushed towards her as she moved in the underbrush, two landed in front of her, the last almost hit her leg, heart racing she moved deeper into the forest then ducked behind a large tree. Breathing heavily as she attempted to catch her breath, her saliva started tasting bitter, as the gas spread out further.

Affected more by the gas than she first thought he eyes started stinging, closing them shut due to the gases intensity; eyes shut she used her mind's eye to calculated how far in the forest she'd have to go to be out of range of the assailant in his tower of trees. Too far for her to go she surmised, it wouldn't take much for her attacker to fire more gas filled flasks to cut off any escape routes. Three loud twangs rang out again, she swiftly moved deeper into the trees and dense forest foliage to avoid the incoming danger, three arrows landed in the brush each one followed shortly with the sound of shattering glass. More gas started flowing around the forest blocking her escape on all sides, she heard another twang and quickly ducked behind the closest tree she barely missed another arrow that flew past her shoulder.

Covering her face with a cloth mask she dug into her cloak she then pulled out a stone vial with a shiny stone stopper, pulling it out with a hard tug she then poured the liquidity contents on her mask. Scent of flowers and fresh water relieved her pained throat and allowed her to breathe again, the elixir she carried was made to counteract poisons and toxins. No longer hampered by the gas she started to formulate a strategy, since she wasn't sure how far Furbaide got she cannot hope for his timely rescue. Based on the strength of the poison gas and the black arrows Aoife narrowed down her possible assailant to only one source, it has become apparent she is being targeted by a Dreg.

Above the usual monstrosities of the mannible clans Dregs are purely made for their tracking, kidnapping, and assassination. talents, they are recognized for their skeleton thin bodies and tall stature. Brewers of poisons and crafters of deadly weapons not many can honestly say they survived one hunting them down, especially since once a Dreg is sent after a target it will relentlessly pursue without respite. Learning from her warrior training that Dregs have eyes that can quickly observe their surroundings, to them everything else moves at a slower pace. That is a double edge sword against anyone who knows how to turn that strength into a weakness, to Dregs everything moves slow except for themselves, so even if they did shoot the arrow to match their perception of speed, the arrow to anyone else was not quicker or slower.

Using logic Aoife started to plan out where the Dreg would shoot an arrow, then in a split second do the opposite and perhaps which would mess with its slowed perspective. Clearing her mind she sent invisible tendrils of her personal aura to see what she cannot, in her mind's eye she saw another flasked arrow being pulled into the bow. Blood red glow resided in the flask, it was clearly a special concoction that would set the forest on fire, in that dense forest a fire would catch on quickly and possible spread for miles. Thoughts of fire engulfing the serene nature around her disgusted Aoife, with only a brief time to form a plan she then leapt out from the tree.

Charging towards the clearing ahead as she heard another loud twang, her magic vision became blurred due to her quick movement but Aoife heard another twang sound. Focusing her senses she felt the air split apart as the arrow sped towards her chest, the Dreg paused in anticipation, waiting to see if the arrow would land keeping its eye on the glowing flask tied to its shaft. Smoothly the warrior witch sensed the arrow was within arm's reach, with reflexes enhanced by her magic she ripped the flask from the arrow ducking under it as it flew past. Clutching the flask in her hand she whispered a quick and powerful incantation, making the flask's contents change into a swirl of blue and green fire.

Another loud twang rang out just as Aoife flexed the muscles in her arm and threw as hard as she could the flask at the Dreg. Using her magic Aoife sent the flask flying so fast it seemed as though she was hurling a blue lightning bolt, crashing into the tree the Dreg his in the flask combusted in a flash of blue and green fire. The Dreg was confused as it couldn't comprehend such amazing speed due to its slow methodical perception of the world. The fire flared around it but didn't burn the tree it was in, because it was bewitched fire which only harmed the witched and unnatural.

The Dreg felt itself sink into non-existence as it was burned away into ash, its consciousness eroding into nothing, leave only one thought, which was it didn't mind dying so much, especially if Aoife would also soon die. In order to have time to gather the power to throw the flask so quickly Aoife needed to stand still long enough for the second arrow to strike, but it did only strike her shoulder due to her trying to get out of its way. Pushing through blood, flesh, and bone the arrow stuck out the other end of Aoife's shoulder, pain throbbed through her entire body, with numbness from the poison setting in she collapsed onto her knees. Unable to hold herself up she fell onto her side agonizing over her wound which burned horribly, the poison as it entered her system felt as though ice was form in her veins.

A deathly chill numbness paralyzed her body, sweat drenched her clothes, eyes became swollen shut and breathing stopped. Her body started to feel like her coffin trapping her soul inside, her conscious mind began to slip from the world of the living, but then she felt strong arms embrace her and carry her to salvation.