《The last tales of Arun-Val》The golden pinecone (Part two)

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From the moment Ipar became the guide, the journey was no longer easy. Ohaine barely remembered the roads to the high mountains, and although she thought Ipar took them through familiar places, the girl had long wondered if he was not making them go on more complicated routes on purpose. He seemed angry all the time. But the rest of the party didn’t seem to enjoy the beauty of Arun much, either.

Master Azahara, who was not used to showing signs of weakness, was already puffing. The two students had already lagged and were only followed by the two hunters, who were the last ones on purpose .

Ohaine took a few quick steps to get next to Ipar. “There is no Guaxa in your woods anymore,” she said, trying to sound friendly. “You don’t need to keep peeing on your walls,”

“I do what dad taught me ,” he replied, sharply. Ohaine hesitated to talk further. She had been waiting for a long time to have the moment to talk to him, but as she feared, he was still hurt and didn’t seem to enjoy her company.

¨How is your old man? Is shepherding close by?”

Ipar glanced at her. “My dad passed away. Soon after, you left to be a great mage.”

Her heart squeezed. She was not sure if because the demise of the old shepherd, who was a kind man she remembered dearly, or because the cold and bitterness in Ipar’s voice.”I am so sorry to hear that Ipar, I really am,”

“Thanks,” mumbled him, almost as if he was too shy to say that word. She Felt silent, trying to focus on getting her feet on safe ground.

“Can we have a short break?” shouted Master Azahara from behind. Ipar looked at the sky and pointed to the trunk of a large pine tree that had recently fallen. “We can rest there. Half an hour.”

The pine was big enough to provide nice shade with its branches. Everyone sat in a big clear spot except Ipar, who decided to eat on the top of the log. When he was a boy, every time he was mad, he used to do the same, hoping no one would follow him over to the place he climbed. For a moment, the thought of old times filled Ohaine with happiness.

As she had always done before, she followed him. The shepherd didn’t need to look to know that she was climbing. It was the noise, or perhaps the old memories, but as soon as she was behind, he let out a huff of frustration.

“What’s that talking about a familiar?” she asked.

“Pigeon was not only a dog. Sometimes it was just a voice in my head. It helped me with the sheep. I’m not crazy if it’s what you are wondering,”

“No. I believe you. But.. Ipar…” Ohaine looked down to make sure everyone was still under the branch before continuing. “You said it left. That’s not possible.”

“Mine did.”

Ohaine crawled closer. “familiars are fairies who have been in animal form for so long that they cannot revert to their other form.”

“Mine did.”

“Listen.” whispered Ohaine. Looking at the group again. Although no one seemed to mind them, she could not shake off the feeling that someone was watching them. “When they are animals, they need to form a deal with a human to be able to do magic again. It’s a bond for life, Ipar. They only leave until. one of the both dies.”

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“Well, whatever it was, now is gone for good. Do not worry about it.” answered him with a strange friendliness that was out of place. “Remember that saying in the old language? The one about the river and the rock?”

Ohaine didn’t remember.

“This feeling in the back of your head. Is your master’s minion spying on us. When you feel it, be careful,” he said in the old tongue, with an utterly convincing smile.

Ohaine stared at him, not knowing how to react. Ipar did not return her gaze, but fixed his eyes on the far mountains.

“We need to keep going!” said Master Azahara suddenly from right under them.

Ipar slid from the truck and fell to the side of the mage with the agility of a cat. “I’m not the one who asked us to stop for a while.”

Ohaine suppressed her snigger, but her lips raised slightly. Azahara had her eyes fixed on her.

She took her time getting down, carefully placing her feet in the safest gaps. Once down, the Master mage was still looking at her,with her brows furrowed. “What were you talking up there?”

Master was used to asking anything she wanted, and Ohaine was used to answering every time, no matter the question. In that moment, she felt freedom in her heart. It was maybe the air of Arun or the words of Ipar, but she didn’t feel the need to please her boss as she used to.

“We were getting over some old provincial problems we had. Nothing important that may interest you, Master.” answered her, walking away. SHe felt like her heart was going to explode with excitement. It felt great.

Ipar was already on the way up and Ohaine lightened the steps to catch him. When she almost reached next to him, Azahara overtook her flouncing. “How long until the place, shepherd?” she said, visibly annoyed.

“The Basajun waterfall is less than half an hour away. There is a small way to climb the place-”

“What time do we reach the woods?” she interrupted.

Ipar snorted and glared at her. He didn’t hide at all how much he disliked her. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Master Azahara gasped. “What time?”

“Afternoon.”

The mage stopped, took a deep breath and turned her head slightly as she used to do when she was thinking about something important.

“What is your Djinn saying, master mage?” asked Ipar. The astonished face of Azahara raised a smirk on Ipar’s face.

He did not wait for an answer. Ohaine followed, looking at her boss for an instant. She was standing at the same place with her brow furrowed and her arms folded. Words that made her teacher react in this way were not common. To tell the truth, Ohaine had never seen Azahara become speechless.

Soon after, they reached the Basajun waterfall and Ipar guided them through the climb on its left. It was a steep and difficult path full of areas that had to be climbed. Impossible for the donkey. Although Ipar promised her several times that the animal would return with her things to the town without problems, the mage Azahara did not stop protesting furiously at having to leave behind some of her values. Especially some chests full of magic items to fight the witches. Azahara distributed everything she could amongst the workers and hunters, but that was not enough.

Reluctantly and frightened by the anger and frustration their mentor was showing, the two disciples took as much as they could carry as well. Even Ipar helped, but in the end, to Azahara’s disappointment, they had to leave some of the group’s things behind.

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The climb to the top took them a long time. The sun was already behind the mountains and the wind was freezing. Ohaine left the big bag on the ground, exhausted. Everyone was on the floor, gasping for air. Everyone but Ipar. He didn’t seem tired at all.

Ohaine wanted to ask him about the Master’s genie. Remembering the words he said in the old language, she took care there was not that same feeling as on top of the tree.

There was nothing. She was not being spied on.

“Ipar,” she whispered. “What you said about my Master. The genie… Are you sure? I mean, a genie..., I doubt…“ Oihane stopped. Ipar wasn’t listening. He was staring blankly. With his thoughts somewhere in the valley. “Ipar?”

The sudden howling of wolves scared her. She had completely forgotten how dangerous the valley was in those days.

Ipar, still staring at the mountains, closed his eyes and smiled. “Ipar!” repeated Ohaine louder than she intended.

“Is fine,” said the shepherd, coming back from wherever his mind was. His words were calm and warm. “They won’t hurt you,”

“How do you know?” She asked. To her, the howling of a wolf was the howling of a wolf. But perhaps for someone like Ipar, who knew the mountains and their creatures better than anyone, there was some difference. Some subtlety that would give him clues about the beasts. “Are they far away?”

“I know now. I understand,” he said cryptically.

“Shepherd!” Master Azahara was on her feet again, cheeks red and hair messed up by the climb. Ipar turned his head towards her, slowly.

“You want me to call my little friend. But I cannot make him come. I tried many times.” he said. His voice sounded strange.

“I can see through you shepherd, I can see what’s going on and I need to talk to-”

“You cannot see through me. Your djinn does,”

“Enough with that!” Master Azahara’s shout surprised the entire party, who was now all staring at them. “In that case, I will summon him myself. Give me the name of that damn thing,”

“Pigeon. You know it,” said Ipar, who picked up his bags and walked away. “We should go or night will fall before we have shelter.”

“Yes Ma’Lady.” interrupted one hunter. “These wolves are no joke and night is when they are more dangerous,”

Azahara waved her hand in disdain, and everyone followed Ipar without a word. The howls were louder, and each member of the group was visibly concerned.

Ohaine didn’t leave Ipar’s side. She needed to talk to him alone once again, but Azahara didn’t leave his side either.

“Pigeon is the name of the dog,” said the mage, who was dragging her feet behind them. I’m sure that thing gave you another one. One name to be called when in its real form.”

“He did,” said Ipar without paying much attention to the woman.

“Would you mind telling me?”

“Would you keep your word if I do?”

“I will consider,” said her with a smirk. Ipar stride away to leave the mage behind. Ohaine, being an experienced hiker, had a hard time following him.

“So?” shouted Azahara.

“I will consider!”

Ipar sped up, and soon after, he disappeared among the trees. Ohain didn’t want to leave the rest behind and lost sight of him. Luckily, the path was well defined.

As darkness took over the landscape, the chauffeur lit a pair of lanterns with a flintstone and held one out to Ohaine. He closed the group with the others.

Additional light didn’t seem to help the two students who stumbled now and then. The moans of Sherezade amused Ohaine.

When the trees cleared, the group could see the hunter’s shelter in the distance. Ipar had already lit the bonfire and was already back with a couple more lanterns.

The howls, although far away, were beginning to scare everyone, and no one wasted a minute seeking the protection of the wide rock walls. Not Ipar, though, who stood a few steps from the door, eyes fixed on the mountains.

Wind was whistling hard, and pitch darkness was due. “You left us alone, Ipar. with the wolves around I-”

“The wolves are not a problem anymore, Ohaine.” Ipar’s words gave her a chill. It was not an uncomfortable feeling, but strange.

“Ipar-“

He raised his hand. “Not now.” He turned his head slowly, staring at the air, as if he was following something Ohaine couldn’t see. She felt an icy feeling behind her neck. Quickly, she realized what his friend was looking at.

“Hurry, Ipar, it’s getting cold.” she whispered, yanking his sleeve. He followed.

The inside was warm, and everyone had already chosen a corner to rest. Azahara had the only bed, and everyone else used sleeping bags and blankets.

“I need to go,” Ipar said suddenly. His voice rang out loud and deep. Ohaine’s eyes widened.

“I know,” replied Azahara. “I have a proposal for you,”

“I’ll tell you the name,” cut Ipar. “but you swear to keep your word.”

“That’s about it,” said Azahara with a grin Ohaine didn’t like.

Ipar turned to the door, leaving his bag, his staff behind. Ohaine tried to stop him, but no words could come out of her mouth. He opened the heavy wooden door with a cracking sound. “Pik, the name is Pik.”

“Shepherd!” Azahara said. “Will the wolves interfere with my business here?”

He stood in the doorway. He took a deep breath and let out the air slowly. “As long as you keep your word, they won’t. You have my word,”

Azahara grinned. Her eyes filled with an unsettling intensity. “But listen to me...” Ipar added. He fixed his eyes on Azahara. His stare made her smile fade. “My word stands as long as yours does. Do you understand?”

Ohaine didn’t see her Master nodding. She rushed outside to follow him. She found him standing a few steps further from the door. Immobile, his mind lost again, far in the mountain peaks.

“Where are you going, Ipar? The wolves.. its… its dangerous,”

“I better prefer the wolves than her,”

“Why do you say that?”

“She is not a good person, Ohaine. Wake up and see for yourself. None of them are. Don’t you see how they treat you? You are better than that, better than them,”

“I’m just an assistant, Ipar. The mark I had… I’ve never been a real mage.”

“It doesn’t matter. You are better than any of them,”

Ohaine remained silent. Staring at the mountains like him. “Is not that easy, I… I don’t know. Don’t leave now Ipar. I have a bad feeling.”

“I have to go,” whispered Ipar.

“Why?”

“You will be safe. She won’t hurt you.”

“She won’t… what? Why do you say-” suddenly her lips tighten and her eyes widen. With a blink of an eye, he moved in front of her., his face at one hand of hers. He moved forward in slow motion. Her entire body froze, her sight fixed on the man’s lips, her mind blurred with doubts. Ipar was a brother, but as much as she loved him, she couldn’t find the same type of love he professed towards her. She wanted to stop him, say a word, push him back.

Instead, she closed her eyelids tightly and clenched her teeth. The kiss never arrived. His beard tickled her cheek and his mouth, next to her ear, whispered in the old language of Arun.

“Your Master said to me if I didn't follow her, you wouldn’t make it back alive.“

Ohaine felt like a bucket of freeing water fell over her. She could not believe it, but somehow, she knew he was right.

He poked her forehead and walked away. “Take care of yourself,”

“You too… Good bye, Ipar,” she said, her voice growing small.

Ipar was soon a little shadow walking uphill. Confused and shocked, she went back inside.

When she crossed the door, she felt a chill. Azahara was sitting in her meditation stance. Palms up, legs crossed and eyes closed.. Everyone else was already sleeping tightly. It had been an exhausting day; she thought.

“What did Ipar say to you?”

Ohaine moved to her corner. “Nothing”.

The mage raised an eyebrow. The lie was obvious, but Ohaine didn’t care. She tried to challenge her gaze, but Azahara closed her eyes and mumbled a song instead.

Ohaine felt suddenly exhausted. His eyelids were falling. The mage’s song was a lovely tune. She curled to the wall, wrapped in a blanket, and closed her eyes. She was sinking into a dark void of darkness when a sharp pain on her forehead lifted her up. It was in the same spot Ipar touched her.

The burn awakened her. But not her body. She was still sleeping under the blanket. It was her consciousness that was free.

“She has fallen, Master,” said a lugubrious voice from the other side of the stance. Ohaine looked without eyes. Azahara was glowing with an aura of reds and yellows. Surrounding the lights, there was a shadow of purples and blacks.

She spoke without using her lips.

“Time to call that annoying fade,”

“I will cost you a year,” said the minion’s voice, matching his words with a subtle glow from the mist.

“I have no other option now. When I get the golden pinecone, it won’t matter anymore.”

Those were familiar words. The genie talked about that when he explained about the witches. ‘they will drain the pinecone’ it said.

Azahara stopped her song and recited a strange mantra. Words she repeated again and again. Ohaine didn’t know what she was saying. It was one of the old forbidden languages. That she was sure.

“I summon you, Pik.” said the mage after the conjuring.

“What do you want?” Oihane recognized the voice that answered the call immediately. It was unmistakable. The same one that granted her the mark of magic and the same one that warned them about the witches.

The other times this Pik talked to her, he never showed himself.Now, beside the fireplace, Ohaine saw a small humanoid figure facing the flames. His head, covered in hair that was more like green moss, was too big for his scrawny body. His hands, with the palms facing the fire, were black, as were all the clothes it wore.

“You are a sneaky little one, aren’t you?” asked Azahara.

Staring at the fireplace, the little folk talked again. “You humans have very little appreciation for your brief life.”

“I bonded. Answer my questions or face the consequences..”

“All right, all right,” the creature turned. His face was as dark as his hands. With big black eyes and a long, disturbing mouth that crossed the face from ear to ear. “Want to know if I’m sneaky? Yes, I am. What else do you want to know?”

“You were the one who told my assistant about the witches, weren’t you?”

“Mmm” Pik scratched his hair.

“Answer me the truth, we are-“

“Yes, yes, yes. Bonded...you just said…” The little folk turned again to face the fire. “Yes, it was me. Did the Djinn see me?”

“You gave too many details. No other human in this place knows about the primordial. If they knew about the golden pinecone, they’d take it.”

Pik chuckled. “You have little faith in your own species. I like you, yes, yes, I like you.” The little monster froze, his black eyes fixed on Ohaine. His grin was disturbing. She felt an instant of fear at the thought that the creature could see her.

“Do you really think you could bait me with such power and expect me to give it to you after I get rid of the witches? Serious mistake in believing that I am as stupid as the villagers of your valley.”

Pik’s attention drifted towards the mage, and Ohaine felt tremendous relief.

“You can keep the cone. I don’t want it.”

Azahara frowned. “Where is the trick? It’s about the witches, isn’t it?”

“No tricks, no… no… no, and… no. I just want you to take that away from here. You don’t believe me. I don’t care. I know I say the truth, yes… I… do!”

“Maybe it’s a trap,” said the purple mist.

“It’s not a trap!” shouted Pik menacingly. The challenge of the little folk raised a storm inside the mist. The room darkened and thunder stormed inside the purple cloud. Pik immediately backed away with quick little steps. His eyes locked on the ground, his hands gripping his shirt, right in front of his heart.

Azahara loved the little monster’s reaction. “Pik is going to help us, not trick us, right little one?” she said with a mocking tone and a broad smile on her face.

“I will help, yes, I will. I swear.”

“Good. First, tell me about the witches. Do you know what faction they belong to?”

“They are followers of the Drun’kal texts,”

“Which path?”

“The truth in nature. There haven’t been dark followers in the Val since centuries,”

Azahara bursted in a loud laugh. “I cannot believe it! Cannot be that easy. Tomorrow we are facing little sheep in the slaughterhouse. Are there any other things there to be concerned about? Apart from the wolves.”

“Apart from the wolves, no. That I’m aware. No, no, no. I can help you avoid dangers, I-”

“No need,” cut Azahara. “I don’t want you closer to the cone. I’m sorry, but I don’t trust you enough, little one. Instead, I will need you to help me with a really important task.”

Pik gave little jumps of excitement. As if the terror that had surrounded him minutes ago had vanished. “A task? For me?” he said.

“I will need to do an extremely ancient and difficult spell that requires me to summon every tree spirit. Is a protection spell.”

“Yes, yes.” His excitement grew at each word from the mage.

“To do so, I need to know how many trees are out there. All of them. Not only the ones in the valley. Need to be the ones in all the world. It’s an almost impossible task,”

“Not to me! Not to me! Wait!” the small folk froze. “Why isn’t your djinn doing it?”

“He cannot leave my side. We are bonded for life. You know how that works, don’t you?”

“Of course, I know. Of course.”

“So, do you think you can do that? I think it is almost impossible.”

“I will! Of course, I always do. Yes, yes. I should go, right? Right?”

“Yes, as soon as possible,”

As soon as Azahara said her last word, the little folk puffed away.

“It amazes me how stupid they can be. Was that necessary?” said the mist.

“Those little fools have sparks of genius sometimes. We cannot be careful enough. I don’t want him around tomorrow.”

“He may come back when he realizes he cannot count all the trees before your supposed spell is cast.”

“He will eventually realize, but he won’t come back until the task is done. That’s how their little brains work. When that happens, we will be far gone, with the Primordial.”

Right after, Ohaine got dragged to darkness. A sleep without dreams. Night passed in an instant and next morning everyone woke up, with renewed energy. Azahara, on the other hand, seemed exhausted.

Without the shepherd, Ohaine was asked to lead the party. The way to the Basajun forest was an easy trek following the creek, so she had little trouble guiding them uphill.

From the refuge you could see the forest, and in a few hours they reached the edge where Azahara ordered them to stop. No one knew why they had to wait until late in the afternoon to enter the forest, although Ohaine was sure that during the long wait, the genie had investigated the surroundings.

Ohaine couldn’t stop thinking of Ipar’s words. Her entire world was crumbling. The woman she admired the most could not have said that. But she believed Ipar. His words had a strange power. They had truth in them. Memories rushed in front of her eyes. The mistreatment, the teasing, the bullying. All those moments now seemed to be completely different. How could she have been so blind?

As hours passed, she realized all her life was just a joke. She was just a puppet. And her heart broke.

When the mage showed knowledge about the place, which in no way could she know by herself, it became clear that her minion had been informing her. They all followed Azahara, who was now leading, into the woods, and soon they reached their destination.

“This is the place for tonight’s gathering,” explained Azahara. Ohaine was amazed at the beauty of the place. The small clearing, surrounded by tall pine trees, stood out for having the ground clean of weeds and dry leaves, which filled the undergrowth of all the surroundings. In the middle of it, bathed by curtains of light that trickled between the trunks, there were human sized menhirs of curved shapes, with ancient engravings all over their surface. If they were glyphs or drawings, Ohaine didn’t know. Next to the circle there was a short pine with a rounded crown, different from the black pines that make up most of the highland forest.

She surveyed it from a distance, while Azahara was busy spreading the oils on the ground. None of its pinecones seemed to glow.

“This circle will protect you tonight. Follow me and stand wherever I command you to stay,” Azahara said to the two students, who were looking around, visibly concerned. “We will let the akelarre begin, then sneak from over there up to here and surprise them red-handed. Me and the armed men will handle them.”

The chauffeur grouted while checking the shotgun shells. The other men nodded.

“Are you going to cold murder them all?” Ohaine asked.

Azahara clenched her jaw. Her eyes narrowed. “They are witches. As an inquisitor, I have the authority to handle them as I see fit. You will be my legal witness.” Azahara grimaced as soon as she noticed hesitation and fear on the two students’ faces. “Look. If any of them surrenders peacefully. I will block their will with the Funishi seal and we will take them to the town, all right?”

“And if any is too powerful? I heard some have dealt with Hell’s worst demons.” said one hunter, almost whispering.

“No one is more powerful than Master Azahara.” Intervened Jair, who seemed to have regained some courage. Although Sheresade tried to emulate the bravery of her teacher, she could not hide her discomfort and Ohaine enjoyed for once not having to hear her complaints.

Azahara spent the rest of the day spilling oils and carving spells around trees and under the rocks. Any sort of enchantment that, apart from giving her some advantage, would limit the powers of the witches and lock them in the clearing at her mercy.

Faster than they expected, dusk arrived, and the group moved away from the clearing. They hid in an undercut between an old log and a large rock. Around, a small, very dim light illuminated the ground. A spell so they don’t see us, Ohaine thought.

The Master Mage waited with her eyes closed. Meditating. At times, she tilted the head to the side, and Ohaine knew she was listening to his invisible servant. She could still feel the cold. Almost impossible to notice if it wasn’t because Ipar had told her.

The others shared some food in absolute silence. She had a knot in her stomach and the smell was making her feel nauseated.

Hearing the first voices in the distance, the party suddenly froze. Nobody moved a single muscle while the clearing was filling with more and more newcomers. Ohaine had only seen a witch once. on a journey with Azahara to the west of Muwallad. At that time, the sorceress they had to face was an old woman who could barely move, with all the attributes that were used to be given to that type of woman in the old tales. That included a sharp, raspy voice. Chilling. It was not the case with any of the voices that hung in that clearing. They all felt young. Sweet and jovial. Their conversations were full of laughter and happy songs.

Pik said they were all from the Path of nature. Ohaine remembered. That was not a dangerous group.

Azahara stood suddenly, and everyone followed. She strode to the clearing and ordered them to stay inside the first circle she made during the afternoon. As soon as Ohaine and the rest stood inside, purple light glowed around them. Only Her, the two hunters and the chauffeur remained outside. With her staff and surrounded by armed men, she moved forward.

‘Little sheep in the slaughterhouse,’ the words Azahara said the night before echoed in her head. She felt an electrifying chill up his spine. Azahara would not do any Funishi seal.

Ohaine sneakily left the circle. “What are you doing?” whispered Jair in shock. She didn’t reply. Silently, she moved forwards from bush to bush.

“Because what you are doing here is forbidden!” shouted Azahara. The mage was facing a group of girls who had gathered at the base of the small round pine. They looked scared and defenseless, all except one who was a few steps In front, with her arms extended and her chin up, challenging the inquisitor.

“Forbidden by your laws. Not ours. Get out of here, mage!” said the woman who was protecting the others. The voice reminded her of Loredi, her foster mother. She somehow looked like her. But that was impossible. The woman facing Azahara was no older than thirty. The witch glimpsed at her, enough to realize that the young woman was undoubtedly Loredi. Ohaine stood from her hidden post and stepped forward. Her shock made her forget the fear being discovered.

Azahara snapped her teeth. “What are you doing, stupid? Go back to the circle!” Ohaine challenged her with her eyes. That woman was no longer her Master, her boss. At some point, she had even thought they were friends. How stupid and naïve.

“You all go back. This place is sacred. You are not welcome!” shouted Loredi.

Azahara hit the ground with her staff, and the earth trembled.

“If you hurt any of my girls, you won’t have what you are looking for, sorceress,” added the witch. Azahara laughed.

“You’ll give me the pinecone or I will make sure each one of you die the most terrible death imaginable.”

“No!” shouted Ohaine. “Don’t hurt them!” with a head movement, the mage ordered one hunter to take her back. He clutched her arm and pulled. The man was thin but strong and he squeezed her arm painfully. She tried to get away, but he staggered her like she was a puppet.

“Be still or I’ll hurt you,” he threatened her, pointing his finger to her face.

“What were you doing? Are you crazy?” whispered Sherezade. Ohaine huffed. Tears of anger felt down her cheeks. The group of witches screamed in unison, terrified. They were all very young. Teenagers dressed in transparent silks that made them look even more defenseless. They were crying and sobbing. Hugging, trying to give courage to each other.

The wind began to blow hard, and howls followed. These were closer. The hunter turned and Ohaine took the chance to kick him between the legs as hard as she could. He felt on the floor screaming.

When she reached the clearing again, the chauffeur raised his shotgun to the group of girls and they screamed.

“No!” shouted Loredi, putting herself in between. “I’ll give you the cone, there!”

From the tree, a golden light glowed, showing a little pinecone between the branches. It was not bigger than a fist, but its light was as bright as the sun, and gave off a heat like it was midsummer in the plains.

“Get out from here, Ohaine! Run!” Said Loredi’s voice in her head. “This won’t be a safe place anymore. Run dear, run!” Loredi smiled at her and then bent to touch the ground with both hands. The earth Shaked again, but this time it trembled without pause, as if the roots of the trees were moving like worms under the ground.

The old chaufer shot Loredi without warning, and the woman fell to the ground. Ohaine screamed as loud as the other girls. She rushed towards the killer and slapped him. He grouted. She hit him again, this time with the fist. The old man, a person who had been nice to her for years, smacked her face so hard that she fell to the ground, hitting her head on a stone. Her lip exploded, filling her mouth with blood.

She lost sense of reality for an instant. When her eyes opened, the driver was gasping for air, completely engulfed by roots that had him trapped, as if it were a constricting snake. Azahara was pushing away other roots that were trying to catch her feet. A root took Ohaine from the leg and squeezed. The pain was terrible. The magic that moved those roots did not make distinctions. Azahara stroked the ground a third time and the sea of wooden snakes froze. With a loud crack, a human-like being came out from the ground. It was all made of branches and mud, leaves, and wood. It was four times taller than any man. Maybe even more.

The being faced Azahara and growled. In front of the mage, the blue mist was taking shape. Ohaine turned to the circle of protection. Noone was there. The earth was broken around, and with it, the spell.

“Ohaine, here!” shouted Jair from behind an old trunk.

“Run, run away!” Shouted Ohaine, staggering towards them.

“And go where? We don’t know how to go back to the hut, stupid!” complained Sheresade. Ohaine put her fist in front of her face. “Call me stupid one more time and you will end up as the hunter. Shere looked at the floor with terror in her eyes. Ohaine didn’t notice the hunter she kicked was laying dead next to her feet. His body broken and twisted.

“Wait for me, and we will go together.” She rushed, her head spinning, to the side of the clearance where the group of your witches were standing. She yelled, hoping they’d follow her, but the girls were petrified with terror. In front of them, joining the tree-like giant, was another beast, a monster of the underworld Ohaine had seen in the books.

Ohaine would never be a good mage. No one could ever reproach her for not having studied hard to achieve it. There was not a single book she had not read, and thanks to that, she could now identify the spirit of the forest. He was a being with many names around the world, although the Arun was known by ginebreda. The other beast, a monstrous humanoid with long limbs and dry gray skin, was a Ghoul. An undead related to the genies from the south.

The sight of the new creature took her breath away. “You need to run, now!” The new scream got the expected effect she wanted and the group of girls rushed towards her. Together, they reached the hiding place where the students and the road workers waited.

Creaks and snaps, along with roars and grunts, filled the place. They didn’t even move when a tree snapped in a half and leaves flew all around. The ginebreda screamed in agony and the ghoul flew over their heads smashing its muscular body against an enormous boulder.

Ohaine turned. “Follow me, I- “the terror in the other’s faces froze her. She turned slowly, knowing what was behind her. She’d smell the stench of death.

She looked up, as the ghoul was tall as two men. The monster was exactly as described in the books. A scrawny humanoid with long limbs and dry gray skin. The eyes glowed red, and the mouth was no longer human. But an enormous jaw filled with sharp teeth.

The ghoul took her with a claw so big that I grabbed her around the waist. The monster pressed and her claws ripped into her flesh like daggers. Ohaine screamed, half terror, half pain. But even though she did it with all her might, she only gasped.

The Ghoul released her as if he no longer had any interest in her and turned to the others. Each of her breaths hurt like it split her body in two. Laying over the ground, she could hear screams of terror and pain around her. Bit by bit, the shouting fade and the monster moved towards her again. She could hear the steps.

Suddenly Azahara screamed, and the beast turned towards her master. Ohaine didn’t move. She was in shock. She stared at the sky, with teary eyes that couldn’t distinguish the moon from the glowing clouds that surrounded it.

Grunts and growls of the two beasts. And soon the howls joined them. This time, the wolves were close, really close.

Ohaine gathered all her strength to stand. The places where the ghoul clawed her were burning. They were not deep. But she knew they’d never heal. Injuries made by that kind of creature would rot the flesh and eventually kill her. She was doomed.

She searched for the rest. One of the young witches lay close by, bloodied. Dead. Same as the road workers. Not far there was the body of Sherezade, ripped in half. The sight made her turn. Another scream of Azahara. The ginebreda, while the ghoul was busy killing everyone, had grabbed the woman with its huge hands. Only the mage’s magic was preventing the wooden creature from squeezing her like a bug.

Ohaine was walking with difficulty. Her head was spinning. While trying to leave the place, she stumbled upon something that looked like Jair, although little was left of the boy. She gagged and fell to her knees.

Azahara’s screams were now filled with agony. The Ghoul, completely out of control, was trying to free her master, ripping the ginebreda’s hands with its claws, but in doing so it was ripping her master’s flesh apart.

Azahara, with her face bloodied and her eyes wide, gave one last breath that drove the Ghoul mad. The monster roared and attacked the tree spirit with all its fury. Ohaine sat up delicately. The pain was intense throughout her body.

The forest giant lost its hands to the ghoul’s claws. The undead beast then turned towards Ohaine and rushed to shred her as well.

She was not scared anymore. Her eyes filled with tears again. Tears of rage, for having been responsible for all this chaos. It was all her fault. Loredi’s death and everyone else’s.

The ghoul stopped the charge halfway. Suddenly, he felt around the trotting steps of the wolves. Their gasps and grunts. In an instant, the undead beast was surrounded by a dozen wolves. All grey and one white. The monster was tired and injured. It hesitated to fight the wolves, which in turn cornered the beast without attacking it directly. Playing with it. Wolves were intelligent animals. They knew that a simple scratch from the ghoul could kill them, and what they did was wait for the ginebreda to rebuild its arms.

“Ohaine,” the voice of Pik spooked her. “Take the pinecone. It will heal you.”

She looked around, but there was no sight of the small folk."Just do it. If not, you will die"

She stood and dragged her feet towards Loredi’s body. She was dead with a big gunshot to her chest. Ohaine closed her eyes and sobbed. Her strength faded, and she felt once again to her knees. Crawling, she reached where the golden pinecone had fallen. It was not glowing as intensely as before. I seemed to be made of gold. Shiny and warm gold.

As soon as she took it, the pine cone turned to ash. She didn’t feel better at all.

The fight was coming to an end. The tree spirit had recovered its limbs and, catching the ghoul by surprise, had grabbed it by the neck. The snap echoed through the trees. Next, it squeezed the undead corpse. The spirit knew, as Ohaine did, that the ghoul was not done yet. It would come back if not destroyed properly. The wooden giant ripped the flesh and broke every bone. The ghoul released purple smoke that reeked of corpses and the wolves intoned sounds of victory.

The victorious giant stumbled towards her, raising its hand threateningly.

She closed her eyes and lay on the ground, accepting her faith when a thundering voice made it stop.

She didn’t know the words of that language, but she recognized the voice. Although it sounded different, ethereal, Ipar’s voice was unmistakable to her. Not able to even raise her head, she turned to see him. He didn’t look like him. The figure that strode closer was a giant at the height of two men. Dressed in wolf skins and with long gray hair and beard. Old, old as the world. Only the eyes gave away the person who he really was.

He took her from the ground with gentle arms. Her hand, the one she took the pinecone, felt rough to the touch. She checked to see if her skin was turning to tree bark.

“Am I dying?”

“No,” he answered firmly.

The tree spirit groaned, and he replied with the ancient language he used before. The spirit of the forest nodded and slowly disappeared between the trees.

“What did you say?” She whispered.

“I begged her not to hurt my friend,” he answered. Small smirk showed under all his bushy beard. Ohaine smiled back and closed her eyes for a while.

Time seemed to slow. Ipar lumbered through the woods and the mountains for what seemed an eternity. She couldn’t tell how much time had passed. Hours? Days? She didn’t know. She didn’t care.

When Ipar finally put her to the ground, the soil was soft and warm, like a woolen blanket during a winter night. He put his hand over her forehead. She sank to the ground and let the leaves and roots embrace her. The glowing light came, and her heart felt warm as summer.

    people are reading<The last tales of Arun-Val>
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