Chapter: Inella meets Addimar

“I’ll not have you kill me.” The man cast a deflective shield out of both hands. The two witches who had attacked him saw their spells flicker and fail against the luminescent magic that repelled their attempts. “I’ll not be making a scene, either. Let it be known that I have no intention of killing any of you, but if you continue to annoy me, I may come to change my mind.” He wore a gray hood and ragged robes that were torn- well worn from travel.

“Who are you?” Inella asked; she was shocked. It had been Lyndross and Selena who launched the attacks against the man. For him to have been able to repel the two women simultaneously meant that he was incredibly strong- dangerously so if he were to attack them.

“I am just a weary traveler- a peaceful traveler at the moment.” The man pulled back his hood to reveal a wrinkled face with a long gray beard. His eyes were blue steel, piercing swords. “My name is Addimar, if you must know. Now, please, let me continue on and I promise that no harm will befall you from my hand.” The man had a wise voice, his tone conveyed that he had been through quite a great deal.

“You have the look of a man from Celith, judging by your white skin and your blue eyes. You look like you could be my grandfather, and I am from Celith, so certainly you must be from Celith as well.” Inella said to the old man in a sardonic tone.

“I can assure you that I am not from Celith. Now if you would please step aside.” Addimar waved his fingers and the two women in front of him were lifted up in the air and cast aside several feet. They landed gently, no harm coming to them.

“And do you swear that you are not in company with Celith?” Inella asked, her leisure disrupted by the displays of magic Addimar had shown himself to be capable of.

“I am not. I will not interfere with your attack on the city, Inella.” Addimar continued walking without losing a step.

Inella was shocked, she had not told the man her name or her plan to attack Celith. “How do you suppose we will attack the city? And where from did you divine my name?” Inella’s outrage was apparent, her blue eyes were wide with surprise.

“I’ve been reading your minds this entire time, Inella.” Addimar looked back at her from over his shoulder to address her with his first comment of parity. “You are the only one to have enough wits about you that I might glean something other than fear or astonishment. I’m sure we will be meeting again, Inella, but for right now I really must be going.” Addimar broke eye contact with Inella so that he could tell the time by the gleaming stars of the cloudless night and vanished in the next instant. The women stood around with dropped jaws; they were unable to process the events that had just happened. The magical ability that Addimar had was unlike anything Inella had ever seen. Inella considered herself at least twice as strong as almost all the witches from Leired. From what she had seen Addimar do, he had to be at least five times as strong as Inella was. Inella would consider herself stronger when she could successfully reanimate herself. That was her personal goal. If she could bring herself back, she could fight every kingdom at once by herself. Would she learn to reanimate herself before she conquered the continent? Or died trying? Her power would grow with each kingdom conquered, but so would her pride, and her arrogance.

“This will not change anything, ladies. We will attack with the sunrise.” Inella flipped her fingers around to signal that the women should return to their tents to rest for the night.

Inella had not slept well through the night. She’d been tossing and turning, dreaming of her mother. Her eyes were wide long before the sun had begun to rise. She walked out of her tent and found herself to be the first to rise besides the sentries who were posted on the perimeter of the camp. The camp was fairly well put together considering the circumstances. There was a small fire pit in the middle of the clearing which was surrounded by the witches’ distinctly different tents. Some of the tents were made of leather that could be packed into drawstring bags and carried, some tents were made in the lean-to fashion, put together in a rush. The tents were various sizes since some of the women slept together. Inella had slept in a tent that she manifested, which was rather comfortable. Some people thought that using a dead person’s sword was bad enough, but alone sleeping in a dead person’s tent? The uncomfortable feelings of the girls never formed words though. Dremeira had slept in the bushes, Inella caught a glimpse of her through the leaves as she walked by.

Inella relit the fire pit so that she could cook breakfast. She used flint sparks instead of a spell so that she could conserve mana for the day before her. Many of the witches woke up to the smokey smell of sausage, decided to dress and attend the fire.

“What are you feeling this morning?” Inella asked Nehaynosh. Inella poked at the fire while Nehaynosh stood behind her with her gray hair messy- noticeably dull in the weak morning light.

“Certainly not like a young woman. I don’t feel any younger, or any more spry.” Nehaynosh yawned when she was done talking.

“Well, you can stay behind and guard the camp today then. There’s no reason for you to exert yourself on foot soldiers that all the other girls are capable of dealing with. Last time I was here my father only had three wizards in his cabinet, and I doubt that this fact has changed. Celith is too suspicious and honest of a city to allow many wizards as citizens.” Inella turned herself away from the fire with a lithe arm resting on her knee. “Old Segaris Wiseborn will be an interesting test of my power. The last “full” wizard I fought escaped me.”

“I doubt that the next wizard you face will have the capability to run away like the last wizard you fought. They won’t have all those silly mirrors.” Nehaynosh speculated. Lyndross walked over to the two women with her blouse crooked. Inella didn’t look too closely at Lyndross, but Nehaynosh gave her a knowing smile.

“And how do you feel today, Lyndross?” Inella asked- mirroring the question she had just asked Nehaynosh. Nehaynosh caught Lyndross’ attention by pointing at her neck, indicating a hickey, and silently laughing.

“I’m ready. I just wish there was a conclave to test my skill against here. Fighting men who do not use magic is too easy.” Lyndross’ tone kept its dignity while she quickly adjusted her blouse and covered her neck. The only thing she was thinking about was her dead family, but she had trained herself to look menacing when she felt most vulnerable. This grimace kept anyone from poking her with questions.

There was little talk after that. Inella gave her orders to the women and each one moved into position. The majority of the women were to either side of the gate that barred their passage. With every city they were to conquer, it was decided that preservation should be prioritized. Having to rebuild the cities they destroyed would be work and nothing else. Going against the spirit of that idea, the small council of women had agreed with Inella that, based on the configuration of guards atop the gate, it would be easier to create structural damage and get into the city through the wreckage of the massive gate that faced the West. Otherwise, too many witches would die before they could get inside the gate, so they would destroy the gate. The illusionists were going to create a distraction in order to get the other witches close. The illusionists decided on a mirage wherein a murder of crows squawked raucously, fought each other with deadly talons, and malted midnight feathers. The illusion was so successful that all of the guards atop the gate looked up, some of them even reached out their hands tentatively to catch the feathers that fell in the chaos. Rasha, the illusionist teacher, took particular measures to ensure that none of the falling feathers were caught by the men on duty. Rasha was naturally 6’8 and dark skinned. Her curly afro counted for about 5 and a half inches of her height. As Rasha worked, she talked to her pupils. Rasha told the women that they were doing well. Rasha walked around, continuing to move feathers out of the soldier’s grabbing gloves. As Rasha walked, feathers began to stick in her hair. Once there were around 10, Rasha would shoot them out at the guards through the illusion similar to how a porcupine would shoot quills. The guards were allowed to catch these feathers. June even helped blow a little wind on some of the feathers that the guards would have otherwise not captured.

The last squawk was heard, and the illusion dissipated. Guards rubbed their heads in confusion. Lyndross walked forward, up to the gate, and cast a massive shockwave towards the gate. The gate gave way in a great puff of dust and rubble. June cast a tremendous wind spell at the gate so that the tottering iron door, fragmented brick, and free falling soldiers were pushed backwards. Witches, pouring in from either side of the gate and killing the few soldiers who survived the fall and were trapped within the rubble.

Inella emerged from the woods pacing behind Lyndross and June. Lyndross looked back at the only woman who was constantly willing to order her around. Lyndross had an absolute look of desperation in her eyes. Inella nodded her head so that Lyndross could run ahead into the battle, which was largely anonymous at the moment. Surely everyone in the city had felt the shockwave of the gate collapsing, but the soldiers were not quick to rise. The witches flooded the city and killed without restraint. Inella still paced; she’d crossed the threshold of the city. She kept June and Heather close to her like dogs on a leash. The witches were far ahead of Inella. She had told them not to kill women or children; she’d told them that they could kill all the men they wanted until the final confrontation. The soldiers would all don their armor and appear in force before the castle to protect the king. Once all the soldiers were assembled, that’s when the remainder of men could be spared. There was no need to kill all of the men, but all men were a threat for as long as there was uncertainty about who was and who was not a soldier.

Lyndross killed all the rushing soldiers she saw. They had confused looks in their eyes as they died. They were surprised. They saw a woman running away from what they thought was an earthquake. Boom. Suddenly they are dead. No time to do the math. Lyndross was flooded with pain, swamped, choking on her own suffering, crying with quick and plentiful tears. She thought about what soldiers had done to her family. How soldiers had ruined her life. Lyndross felt no empathy for soldiers no matter which uniform they wore, no matter who they served. They were all worthless killers to her. She ran through a tight alley of shanty houses and out into a plaza. There were guards positioned on the walls who were climbing down ladders 6 feet apart. Lyndross sent searing fireballs at each of them. Hitting them square in the back, they would slip off the ladder screaming and fall to their death. Regardless of how short the fall was, they all died. Lyndross screamed a feral scream from deep in her stomach. Rage and Sorrow were twined together. Ropeburn through the throat like a slipping anchor skinning the inside of a sailor’s hands as they tugged with futility against a dripping, dropping anchor and the unimaginable oppression of the wide ocean.

“My lord, the city is under attack. This is surely your daughter and her witches. They have finally come.” Segaris said to King Eric. Segaris had entered through a chestnut doorway that smelled expensive and went into King Eric’s personal waiting room. What he had been waiting for, no one would ever know.

“I see. Use your magic to shout at the men to meet in front of the castle. Prepare defenses if you can. I suspect she will come straight to me.” King Eric dismissed Segaris Wiseborn. The wizard turned and left, his blue robes and purple wraps billowing because of the wind from an open window. King Eric went to his personal armory and put on his armor- the armor was equipped with the scabbard that sheathed his favorite silver longsword. He took off his golden crown to put on a headpiece of chain mail. He tucked it into the chest piece of his armor. Then he put the crown back on, fixing it with a back and forth shift from both hands. His mood was unreadable. He looked stoic. He was calm. He was fearless. Or maybe he had accepted the fact that he would have to die at his daughter’s hand. Maybe he had accepted that a long time ago. Inella walked calmly through the burning streets. Inella was on a straight path to the castle. Each step that she took was measured. For as long as Inella had been away, she’d still remembered Celith as if she had never left. It was no coincidence that Inella reached the front of the castle right as her father stepped out the door and shut it behind him.

King Eric stood behind fifty soldiers. A pittance of his original forces, but most had been killed already. Lyndross had carved her way to the castle by following the running soldiers. She had arrived before Inella, and now that Inella was here, other witches began to converge on the location. They walked through narrow and wide streets, walked by houses big and small. The houses of Celith were gray like the walls that hadn’t protected the citizens today.

There were barely any defenses put up. Just four racks of wooden spikes meant to stop horses. There were no horses to stop though, only hundreds of angry witches. These witches were women who had been degraded, disrespected, and objectified in places like Celith. The flair of battle makes anger turn into a performance enhancing drug, and all of the witches were angry.

The rectangular houses of Celith were largely free of damage, but there was blood on the streets that would need to be washed. The streets would stink for weeks, but they always stank from horse shit anyways.

“So, you decided it has to be your way? Inella? It always had to be your way, didn’t it?” King Eric shouted so that his daughter could hear him.

“Aye, father.”

“I take it junior is dead if you are here?” This was less of a question from Eric.

“Aye, father.”

“You and him were more alike then you give him credit for, Inella.”

“I doubt that.” Inella spit in the direction of her father. “You, him, mother, you will all be alike in a few moments.” Inella gave a head nod to Lyndross and the other witches on the scene to block Segaris’ magic. There was another wizard on the scene who would need to be blocked as well, but there were plenty of women to help.

Inella gathered herself in a great leap, and flew dangerously high into the sky. As she began to fall down, she shot a wide tangle of snaking lightning down at the gathered soldiers. The way they were defensively clumped together made it easy to kill them all instantaneously. Eric gulped as he looked down at the excessive ashes in front of him.

“Walk down the stairs, father.” Inella beckoned with her finger. King Eric descended the stairs slowly. He took his sword from its sheath (doubting it would be of any use). He raised his sword defensively. Inella looked at her father for a moment. She felt bitter and little else. Inella cast a quick spell that made the ground flip open and swallow Eric; it crushed him underneath the fissure and hid him from view. Eric tried to swing his sword with a groan that was cut off by his sudden death.

Lyndross dueled Segaris next. Segaris was shaken up, certainly angry after seeing the king die so suddenly. Lyndross started with two fists of flame, and Segaris slapped her on the wrists with water. Lyndross sent electricity into the water, but before it could shock Segaris he turned the water into sand which fell quietly onto the pavement with a warm glow.

Lyndross grew a long plant from her finger in the shape of a whip, and started cracking it at Segaris. Segaris took out a long piece of white chalk and cut the plant in half. After crushing the chalk, he blew a smokescreen. He tried to run at Inella in the stealth provided by the dust, but the plant he had chopped in half was no longer a plant. One half was a sharp horseshoe, the other half was a hammer. Segaris was blind to see the hammer hit the horseshoe into his stomach with a metallic pound. Lyndross had cast a speed spell to make her run faster and used echolocation to pinpoint Segaris. Lyndross cast another spell to grow a spike on her head, and another spell to turn her skin hard as iron. She tackled Segaris, breaking his hands, and then headbutted him with the spike and impaled his brain.

Callie, Dousza, Calaime, and June worked together to defeat the last wizard. The women looked at each other with relieved smiles as the dust settled. They gave themselves a moment to rest before they worked together with their magic to restore the city to its elegant, but plain grayness.

~~~

Kings Meet

“They’ll not recognize her as their queen; I can assure you of that.” Said King Edobe to mark the beginning of a royal meeting between the kings of Milynine, Zoboru, Namelle, Hokurr, and Ko’fell. The five biggest kingdoms in Panatea in order. Milynine, Zoboru, Namelle, and Hokurr (known as the big four) met often, since they were all relatively close to one another. Ko’fell was in attendance because they had special information on Inella and the other witches.

“Well, of course they’ll not recognize her.” King Josofu said. Josofu ruled Namelle, and he was well liked by his people. Josofu was black in complexion like Edobe, but he had narrower facial features. Josofu was a good king, so the people of Namelle liked him, but he was different from them. Josofu was a descendent of one of the darker-skinned tribes that was pushed out of Milynine and, after their diaspora, settled in Namelle. The rest of the people in Namelle had a lighter complexion and different facial features, so there were certain organizations that were constantly planning a coup d'etat, but none had been successful. There was even a theory that Josofu was a bridge for Milynine to take over Namelle, but there was hardly any proof based on Josofu’s actions. What was important was that Josofu was liked by the general population.

“Don’t be so sure. If she is as powerful as they say, some will follow her; most will follow her. People bend their knees to those more powerful than them.” King Sidregar said. Sidregar was the strict ruler of Hokurr who did what was best for his people. Sidregar was a respected king, with a thick white beard and a worn face. Sidregar was the oldest of all the kings in assembly. Sidregar was also a descendent of a dark-skinned tribe that was pushed out of Milynine during the civil war for the throne, but Sidregar’s ancestors were pushed south west into Hokurr.

“I don’t know about powerful, but she is certainly ruthless. The rumor is that she killed her own father.” King Pietro said. Pietro was the ruler of Ko’fell, and was the slimmest of all the Kings in assembly. Pietro had light brown skin and a thick mustache. His beard was too sparse to look commanding, so he shaved it. His slick black hair was in a bowl cut, which fit perfectly inside of his crown. Pietro was the only King at the assembly whose ancestors had not been pushed out of Milynine during the civil war; he was a Ko’fell native through and through.

“Well, Borundu knows just how powerful Inella is, supposedly.” King Edobe said with a hint of condescension.

“She is not as strong as the rumors would make her, but she is not to be underestimated. She destroyed one third of my navy, her and her witches.” King Borundu said the word ‘witches’ like an insult. Borundu’s ancestors were the first to be pushed out of Milynine during the civil war, and they scaled over the mountains to the sea. Now Borundu was the king of the fifth largest kingdom in all of Panatea, and facilitator of one of the most important ports on the whole continent. He had led a battalion to attack Zoboru and steal it from the natives. He had been a part of the very party that forced Nehaynosh to leave her homeland.

The kings gossiped and drank wine-all secretly loathing one another until the meeting was over.

~~~