The clearing was disturbing. Not even the wildest imagination could come close to what Calypso was seeing. The stench alone should have been a clear warning that something was amiss. It polluted the very air with the unmistakable putrid stink of decaying flesh. Bestial corpses littered the soft ground, while some floated in the pools of stale water. But those were the minority, at least she thought as much. For the larger portion of the dead denizens of the Hasturian Bogs were torn to pieces. Amidst this scene of carnage, the single human corpse stood out.

Kneeling over a small mound, the mortal remains of the man were covered in wounds, each vicious enough to have killed him three times over. A shattered gladius and a broken bow, locked firmly in his hands, spoke volumes of the desperate struggle he must have endured before his end. Calypso could only feel respect for this man, a true hero without a question. Where many of her adoptive sisters would have failed, this normal man had claimed the life of what looked like every beast and deformed creature that inhabited the bogs.

The young Hunter could feel her spirits were restless and quiet. None of them had spoken a word ever since they had entered Esthergrad. True they had been exhausted from trying to heal her and enhance her body to keep up with the pace Lady Ire had set, at least Caden should have recovered by now. There was something else going on and it made her skin crawl. The quiet of this place tested the limit of her nerves and she realised she was an edge for quite some time now.

“He did not kill all of them,” Lady Ire spoke softly. She must have noticed Calypso’s staring at the dead man. “A few – yes. But the others came to feed and tore each other apart, by the looks of it. Most unusual.”

“Still, this is quite the achievement.” The girl returned in the same soft voice as her mentor. “For a normal person to slay two or more of these beasts…”

“You were a normal person yourself, not so long ago. And in part still are. Do not forget it and do not underestimate people. They always find a way to surprise you.” The experienced Hunter quickly rebuked her.

“I’m sorry.” Calypso lowered her head, stopping her thoughts from reaching her mouth. Now was not the time to start yet another argument with her mentor.

“I’ve warned you before; there is too much pride in you, child.” Apparently, Lady Ire was not willing to let this matter slide. “It blinds you; it weakens you and if you are not careful it will be the death you.”

“Shit, I said I get it!” Calypso snapped and as soon as the words left her mouth, she cursed herself for being an idiot. Her resolve had lasted just a handful of seconds.

“Once we are done here, you and I will need to have a long talk.” The older woman removed the battle-axe from her belt and lowered herself to the ground.

“Prepare yourself, there is no telling what might await us here.” She whispered and with calculated steps made her way towards the dead man.

“Enid, Onora, lend me your strength.” Calypso’s request was met with silence. Those two were her oldest companions and not once had refused her, unlike Maeve and Caden and their silly games of will.

“Damn it! Shit!” The girl cursed under her breath and followed her mentor. All that was left was to hope that she would not need the aid of her companions.

With a practised motion, she dropped from the saddle and landed into a crouch. Her gut revolt at the stench that lingered this close to the ground and with some effort, the young Witch Hunter swallowed back the bail that crept up her throat. As she followed her mentor’s footsteps, Calypso could not shake the feeling that she was being watched. Her polite request for her companions’ aid was ignored and after a moment of hesitation, the girl decided she had no other choice.

“By the contract we have, I order you to make yourselves known.” She almost hissed.

Evoking her companion spirits by force was sure to put some strain on their relationship, but they forced her hand. For the most part, the spirits Witch Hunters used were willing participants in their symbiotic relationship. And to ensure that everyone got the most of it, both sides had to agree to some rules of conduct. If by some reason they thought her plans went against their own agenda, her spirits could enforce those rules. However, the little shits seemed to forget that this went both ways.

A sharp pain run along Calypso’s spine, where the sigils of her companions were branded on her body, and she felt uncomfortable wetness irritate the area. She was bleeding! They had refused her summons.

“Lady Ire! Something is very wrong!” The girl nearly screamed in panic as the pain subsided.

“What is it?!” The experienced Witch Hunter assumed a defensive stance and released the straps of the war scythe fixed to her back. Free from its bindings and supported by her back and ground, the woman could use the weapon at a moment’s notice.

“They refused to answer my call.” Calypso cried out, feeling the strength drain from her legs and dropped in the blood-soaked mud face first.

It was only temporary, she knew it, but the timing couldn’t be any worse. This put her and her mentor in danger and the Wilds were not a forgiving place to let such an opportunity go to waste. The girl focused her thoughts on the meditation rituals that were drilled into her memory by the instructors at the Frozen Keep.

The young Hunter felt her mentor pull on her shirt. “Idiot! Why did you not tell me they were in such a weak state?”

“I thought…” Calypso bit back the tears after hearing the accusation in Lady Ire’s voice.

“You didn’t think, that’s why you are in this mess! If I knew, what sorry state you were in, I would have asked Irene to accompany me.” After the conversation she had witnessed between the two veteran Hunters, this stung her deeply.

“They should have regained their power overnight. Why haven’t they?” Lady Ire demanded as warmth spread over Calypso’s back and some of the weakness faded.

“I’m sorry.” There was no holding back the raw emotion that had swept her. All of her pain, regret and remorse were put into those words, but the girl knew it was enough to begin to apologise for this mistake.

“I… I had them try to spy on Lady Navina…” Admitting the truth nearly broke her, but there was nothing else the young Hunter could do.

Her conduct was inexcusable, there was no question about it. Although such a thing would demand a long lecture about how she needed to correct her behaviour and some sort of punishment, most likely a few lashes, it was nothing compared to this fuck up.

“You have no idea how sorry you are going to be.” For the first time since she could remember, Calypso detected genuine worry in Lady Ire’s voice. “Your contracts are failing apart… It might not be too late to fix them. Ansgar, Badulf, Ellanher, aid me and guide your lost kin to your light.”

Cold sweat bathe the girl when she heard her mentor’s words. No Witch Hunter wanted to hear that the link between her and her spirits hung on a thread. If it was completely broken, then no one else would offer her a new contract, consigning her to a fate worse than death. Calypso would be removed from the annals of the order, her name stricken out and she would be forever remembered as one of the handful failures.

Her mind was gripped by panic as the full extent of her mistake sunk in. The young Witch Hunter buried her face in the mud and prayed. From the bottom of her heart, she begged for forgiveness and a second chance. Something she had not done since her parents were killed over twelve years ago.

The painful memory came unbidden and unwanted. Horrid scenes from her terror-filled childhood raced in her mind without giving her a moment’s respite. They demanded her attention. More than that, they took it by force, ignoring her screams and sobs.

Calypso recalled the faces of the three witches that had taken control of the small hamlet she was born it. Their deformed and ugly appearance had scarred her nightmares for years. In those two long years, they had abused, raped and mangled every man, woman and child. Those that were spared, her friends and siblings, were sacrificed for their dark rituals. Her father was turned into a lusting thrall, one of the protectors of the house the three crones had claimed as their own. Her mother was left a cripple after her arms and feet were used to feed the beasts that followed the witches.

Even so, her parents were people in possession of incredible will and when Calypso was chosen as the latest sacrifice, they had rebelled. A futile act that prolonged their deaths by six days. Six days of torture and agony as the meat was stripped from their bones. She had prayed then, for their suffering to end, for someone to put an end to her misery. The spirits, in their infinite mercy, answered her fevered whispers. Lady Bethany descended upon the town with the light of morning, leaving nothing but death in her path.

Graceful and efficient, the Witch Hunter had slain the bests first and those that had willingly aided the vile monsters second. Last were the three witches. They had raged and spat bile and curses, all proved to be impotent against her blessed shield. And as the crones prepared to sacrifice Calypso, in one last attempt to summon their infernal servants, the righteous blade of Lady Bethany cut them down.

Every Witch Hunter had a story similar to that. All the girls and young woman in the Frozen Keep had suffered greatly at the hands of similar vile creatures. But none of them had known such despair and none had a spirit forge a contract with them before they reached the safety of the Solemn Port.

Calypso could not go on if she lost Maeve. The gentle spirit had saved her soul, just like Lady Bethany had saved her life when she needed it the most. Gentle Maeve, she had healed her mind and put an end to the nightmares that haunted her dreams. She was willing to give anything and everything to feel her presence again.

“Kind one,” Maeve’s worried voice pierced the darkness that clouded the young Witch Hunter’s thoughts. “Accept me back… I cannot reach you on my own… I need your help… Please, hear me, kind one.”

Calypso pushed herself up from the mud and shouted the spirit’s name with all the might her raw throat would allow. The Hunter-in-training realised her mistake when a strong fist connected with her jaw and dropped her down in the foul mixture of wet clay and monstrous blood.

“Idiot!” Lady Ire snapped at her. “Do you want the entire bog to know we are here?!”’

“Forgive.” A rasping moan sounded from nearby. “Made mistake. Must needed save this one.” The pressure from Calypso’s back was gone.

Her mentor had moved to face whatever owned the rasping voice. Gathering her strength and spurred by Maeve’s calming presence, the girl jumped to her feet, releasing the two kampilans from the straps on her belt. It took her a moment to realise the corpse of the man had moved and was standing several steps from her and Lady Ire.

Once, before all of this, it must have been a dashing young fellow with blonde hair and a charming smile. But now, the face the Hunter was looking at was disfigured. Clow marks crossed it from left to right. The right eyes had been gouged out and the thing’s lower lip dangled from its chin. This unnatural abomination had to be destroyed.

“No, kind one, hear it out!” Maeve cried out in her mind. Calypso saw the hesitation she felt, take hold of Lady Ire’s body. Her spirits must have issued a similar warning.

“Body unused to mortal.” The creature sounded confused and the deep gash in its throat only made its speech harder to understand. “No song, only words wording. Taking distant time use. Called brother and sisters save one inside. Special kin fading slowly needed aid. Trapped instead.”

I don’t understand.” The girl looked at her mentor, hoping that the veteran would be able to help her.

“No!” The corpse shook. “Listen must before not singing harsh words. Help is requested. You daughters of corrupt mother, must assist. It is bonded rule.”

It was obvious that the longer it spoke, the more frustrated the thing grew. And it was smart enough to understand, its flawed explanation was not helping. Reluctantly Calypso reached out to Maeve and asked for her help.

“It is our kin, kind one.” The spirit offered. “That one failed to form as it was intended and called for aid. Since we were let loose, we answered its plea. Alas, once we reached it, we were trapped inside its host.”

“That’s not enough, I need more information.” Calypso shook her head.

“This one cannot explain it in terms mortals can understand.” There was a distinct note of sadness carried in Maeve’s voice. “It was born of six others, four of which were yet to be born before they gave birth to it…”

“Ok, I understand. It’s complicated.” That was putting it mildly if she was honest. “Just tell me, can it be trusted?”

“Without a doubt!” Her companion chimed some of her former cheerfulness returning to her voice. Calypso was glad to see her friend regain some of her power. “It helped me escape the trap that binds it to this host. Alas, it is too weak to have done the same for Caden, Onora and Enid.”

“It is good to know they are safe.” The young Witch Hunter let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t the best news, but it could be much worse. “Hey, Maeve, what did it mean by daughters of corrupt mother?”

Her question was greeted by silence which was never a good sign. “Maeve?”

“I am sorry, kind one, our contract forbids to answer your question.” It was the first time Calypso had heard of such a restriction. The only topics spirits would, or rather could not discuss were related to the real they hailed from and their King. “You must focus, kind one.”

The Hunter was ready to burst from the self-loathing she felt at this moment. In the span of a few hours, she had made so many novice mistakes. At this paise, Lady Ire would have no other choice but send her back to the Frozen Keep to undergo her training again. Who knew how many years it would be before someone else agreed to mentor her?

Calypso returned her mind to the situation at hand. Because of her conversation with Maeve, she had missed when the veteran Witch Hunter had moved next to the corpse, or whatever it was supposed to. However, she did notice that it was healing its wounds. Slower then a Witch Hunter who had several spirits could do it, but they were healing.

“Stay where you are and be prepared for anything.” Lady Ire commanded with iron voice. “And this time, Calypso, do not disappoint me.”

The woman took the creatures offered hand and in a burst of blinding light, the two were gone. Calypso was left alone and unsure of what to do next. She lacked the experience to be on her own, having relied on her mentor for almost everything. All this time she had failed to notice that her efforts were focused only on honing her fighting skills and not on becoming independent. Irene’s words from last night came ringing in her mind. The insufferable woman had been right; she was a pet.

Margo clicked her tongue. A gesture, Amberly was beginning to recognise as meaning nothing good. Every time the ancient witch did it, someone suffered her angry outbursts. Two sisters of the Raven’s Wing had terrible afflictions placed on them when that happened the last time. The poor women had their skin covered in festering boils and their hair fall. Nothing too dangerous to kill them, but to witches, especially those from strong covenants, appearance meant a lot.

At least this time the source of the monstrous woman was located in the vision pool the others had prepared. However, because of her new peculiar position as a personal mouthpiece to the new matron, Amberly was locked inside the small ritual chamber, alone with her new master. Her new traitorous sisters had fled to safety as soon as everything was prepared, leaving her as the only one Margo could vent her displeasure on.

The powerful witch had located Helen’s body faster then the initiate could imagine. There was a small problem. An unknown young man was already there and in the process of burying the unfortunate aspiring witch.

“A guardian spirit taking possession of a mortal body?! The world has changed.” After saying that, Margo had hexed beast after beast and thrown it against the unknown men. Yet he had prevailed despite the numerous injuries they inflicted on him. Ture none of the creatures were all that strong or dangerous to begin with, but they were children of the Wilds and should have been more than a match for one mortal man.

This continued for a few hours, until everything with a brain and a few without, were drawn by the smell of blood and driven into a feeding frenzy. The carnage that followed was gruesome enough to make Amberly’s stomach turn. By the time the day replaced the night, there was nothing left, that was close enough, for Margo to throw against this guardian spirit. It just stood there, kneeling on Helen’s grave, immobile as a statute. If she didn’t know better, Amberly would have assumed it had died.

To make matters worse, as noon approached, a duo of Witch Hunters appeared in the clearing. They were the reason behind the ancient witch’s currently growing displeasure.

“Can you understand what they are saying?” Margo asked when the older one sat on top of the younger one.

“I’m sorry mistress,” Amberly lowered her head, preparing a curse that would end her own life quickly and hoped she would not need to use it. “The creatures used in the ritual do not comprehend speech. All they hear is sounds, without meaning or emotion behind them.”

“So, that is the limit of your talent.” Margo’s lip curled., but she said nothing else. Instead, the frightening woman focused her attention on the steam covered water of the vision pool. “Has this Helen’s promised familiar been found?”

The girl reached out to her companion for the information. It took it less than a second to inquire among its infernal kin residing in the shadows of her new sisters.

“Yes mistress,” Amberly felt her throat tighten because she was about to deliver more bad news. “It was killed while bonding with the aspirant. The sisters are interrogating its twisted soul as we speak.”

“Failure after failure after failure.” Margo let out a sigh. “The incompetence of the Daughters of the Blackened Heart has no end. No wonder the Keeper came to take them in person.”

“What… What was that!” The young witch exclaimed as both the old Hunter and the guardian disappeared in a flash of light.

“Something I have coveted to learn all my life.” The new matron of the Raven’s Wing murmured. “True, unrestricted power. If the spirits and their pacifist masters are prepared to tilt the balance, it could only mean that a war is coming.”

This sounded more ominous than any prediction or divination, she had heard and those were meant to sound sinister by design. On top of that, it came from someone who had spent centuries being tortured by one of the infernal lords. Amberly could think only of digging a deep enough hole in which to hide until all of this was over.

“Zaar,” Margo hissed. “Command your aborted kin to capture that girl.” The witch whispered several enchantments as one and a sadistic smile formed on her beautiful face.

Amberly watched as one by one the dead beasts rose, possessed by the lesser demons that lurked in the darkness of the bog. She had to admit it was very satisfying to watch the young Hunter struggle to escape while being bled one cut at a time. The initiate felt her excitement near its peak when the reanimated monstrosities seized their movements.

“Do not lose track of her!” Her mistress shouted at Amberly. “Zaar! What is the meaning of this? I gave you an order! You dare violate a contract signed by the cruel one himself!”

“Nothing has been violated, harlot.” The demon’s roar echoed in the small chamber and the girl flinched, nearly relinquishing her control over the spell. “Those lesser things lack the strength to continue the pursuit. The prey was too skilled for them.”

Pushing back her fear, Amberly returned her attention to the vision pool. The denizens of the Wilds could not keep up with the Witch Hunter’s mad dash, so she modified the spell and took hold of one of the birds that had their eyes on the fleeing woman. It took her a while, but she recognised the town her enemy entered.

“Mistress, I know where she is!” Amberly exclaimed, happy to be of some use and potentially escape any punishment that was about to come her way. “That is Esthergrad!”

“Good. How far away is it?”

The enthusiasm evaporated from her voice as she answered the question. “Seven weeks, six or five if we push the horses to their limit.”

“Zaar,” Margo barked, “find something that can take me there in less than ten days. Do not dare return if you fail.”

“And you, my persistent prey, I have something special for you, to keep you there, until I come.” The ancient witch slid her wrist and used the stream of blood to write to draw a powerful curse on the still water of the ankle-deep pool.

They watched as the Hunter grabbed her throat and stumbled. Despite her life being slowly drained away, she pushed herself to her feet and continued her sprint crushing through the entrance of a fairly large building. Predicting her mistress’ orders, Amberly forced the bird she had a hold on, to land on the window sill of the opposite building to get a better look. In the gloom of the spacious room, she recognised the figure of a third Witch Hunter. The initiate was about to order the fragile creature to follow when the spell shuttered and the water of the vision pool turned to dust.

“I’m sorry, mistress!” Amberly dropped to her knees out of fear she had messed up. “I do not know what happened.”

The minutes passed and nothing happened. After a few more, the girl assumed it was safe to lift her head. Margo’s face was twisted by pure hatred. She stood there, shaking ever so slightly until she finally exploded. Profanity and curses spewed from her mouth one after the other.

“That bitch! How dare she have children after I removed her womb! You fucking demon plaything! Even from the grave, you spite me! I will end your entire line, even if I have to strangle every single one of your scions with my bare hands!”