Running a Tavern as a Former Witch!

So, this is how it feels to possess someone.

A wave of nausea, a strange dizziness. It's… unsettlingly intimate. I stared in awe at her hand, now mine. So small, so delicate. It feels wrong, yet… right? A chill ran down my spine as I settled into the strange sensation. This power… it's intoxicating, terrifying.

I deliberately waited to see if her body would reject me, but there was no resistance. Strange. Is she accepting this? Or is something else at play?

The markings etched on my skin appeared on hers, and for a moment, I thought she was finally fighting back. Oh, gods, I hope not. I don't want to hurt her. Not that I wanted a fight, but wasn't it to be expected? Perhaps this is her subconscious resistance, manifesting in this way.

A sudden burst of mana, followed by the painful sensation of sharp pricks, as the markings spread toward my hand. Real flower buds sprouted, blooming into strange, fragrant flowers. It's beautiful… But it hurts. Oh, gods, it hurts.

IT HURTS!

I snapped out of my thoughts at her cry in my head. Her pain is mine. I feel it all. Unable to comfort her—I had no right—I blocked her voice. I'm so sorry. I have to do this, even if it breaks my heart.

I'll make it up to you later... If I can. I'll not make a promise that I might not be capable of keeping.

The flowers multiplied, reaching my hand. Its roots wrap around the uncovered skin of my arm and hand like a glove. Blood spread into the petals, creating a mesmerizing, chilling sight—like the red moon embracing the golden sun. It's beautiful, horrifying, and completely out of control.

I shook my head. I shouldn't be admiring this! Something's wrong! The markings are supposed to invade the orb, not transform like this! This isn't how it was supposed to go. What am I doing wrong?

As I searched for a solution, Arcana's voice whispered, sympathetic yet ominous:

“Don't resist. The saintess is supposed to die, my little goldfish. The memory won't let you interrupt.” He's right, I'm resisting. But I can't stand by and watch her suffer.

"The memory? Am I not the Heart now? I see its memories, and this shouldn't happen.” I should have control. Why don't I?

“Perhaps. But you're not up to its standard yet. You need to step back,” his voice, faint with irritation. He's patronizing me. Treating me like a child.

How cruel... He doesn't understand. He doesn't care.

“Remember, you are the Heart of this realm, not its last beacon of hope. Yes, yes, like the chronicler—sort of. Try not to be so... what do you weaklings call it?” he mocked. "Ah, yes! Heroic." Heroic? I'm barely holding on.

No, there must be something…

I took a deep breath drowning myself in my thoughts as to resist Arcana's mockery.

These markings… they're the same ones that Alpheratz manifested with his power. Think. Think!

Is it from his curse? What was it?

Suddenly, the voice from earlier spoke to me again. Relief floods me, a lifeline in the storm. Relief washed over me as I felt assured by the presence of the voice. I have help…

“She won't die as long as you are housed by her shell. Don't fret,” A calm, reassuring voice, a counterpoint to Arcana's cruel taunts.

The flowers pulsed, their crimson petals deepening in color. The pain intensified, a searing brand that spread through my body, through her body. It's like… the markings are drawing something out, something dark… something ancient.

“It’s a transference,” the voice continued, its tone laced with a weariness that mirrored my own exhaustion. “The curse of Alpheratz isn’t killing her; it’s… consuming her essence, transferring it to the orb.”

Nausea and guilt churned within me. Why had I ever suspected him of harm?

“We’ll help…” the voice declared. Energy surged through my veins. The flower buds crawled up to the orb’s surface; vibrant colors drained from the petals and traveled through the roots that had pierced the orb.

Slowly, the orb began to transform into a red flower crystal—like the ones that the people of Hermes crafted, so exquisitely detailed and impossibly lifelike.

As the transformation finished, the crystal pulsed with a soft, inner light. The saintess is freed.

A painful force hit me like a physical blow, a hammer against my soul, throwing me out of the saintess's body and back into my own. The world swam back into focus, blurry and disorienting. My own body felt weak, drained, as if I'd run a marathon in quicksand.

The saintess stood before me, the crystal flower cradled in her hands. Guilt flashed in her eyes before she closed them, murmuring what sounded like a summoning spell.

-

Stones seem to shine brightly, like the stars above our heads. I stood silently amidst the chaos that erupted from the energy escaping the magic circle. The saintess stood in a daze, her eyes bulging as saliva dribbled out of her mouth. I saw tears fall from her eyes before she concealed her face with her hands. Her sobs mix with her almost incoherent apologies.

Anger failed to boil in my chest. With the memory of her life, there is only one thing I could feel for her: pity.

Her desperation was absurd, but it may not have been the case if the Old Witches and Old Warlocks had not mistreated her. Mistreated—that word doesn't even fit her suffering. As someone whose life was controlled by those hags, I wouldn't consider her case anything less. No one has the right to scale someone's torture.

I settled above a pillar, from here I could see the cruelty left by the visible mist of energy rushing out of the magic circle. It was a beautiful color of the dark violet ocean of the north, but its effects couldn't be described in the same regard. Light flashed over my mind, in the memory of the people my eyes witnessed its impact. The mighty infrastructures from Hermes, and to the land of east and west, had turned it into portals from a sickening place where demons exist. Broken parts of ruins hovered in the air, much like the pillar where I stood.

What can I do?

I looked behind me. Lyra and Pyrrhos stood before the citizens of Hermes. Lyra had been using her power over the Lunar Gate to bring them all to safety. Pyrrhos was occupied with the creatures that had been flying out of the ruins. It was overwhelming how he single-handedly dealt with such numbers.

Burning heat blew from the magic circle as the visible energy shifted to the color of blood. Veins began to crawl over the surface, further destroying everything that had adorned the land.

Yet, despite the suffocating atmosphere, the citizens of Hermes remained calm as they followed Lyra's orders. It demonstrated their undeniable respect for those two.

I yearned to gain such a bond with the entire land as well.

There had to be something I could do. I did not want to let this energy corrupt the realm. I am its Heart.

A flash of light briefly interrupted my silent contemplation; a memory of Ion, the Shadow Circle, Vernon, Alpheratz, and Levi fighting a huge army of what appeared to be undead, emerging from the Eldenwood forest like a rush of water. Moans and groans echoed in the air as the undead groveled, crawled, and raced as fast as they could towards the group of Levi and the others.

I took a deep breath, resuming to rack my brain for anything I could do.

I flew behind one of the smaller demons, pouring all my strength into my fist. I attempted to defeat it with a single hit. Red dust flew as it sank into the ground. Its initial reaction almost fooled me, but it quickly sprang back and rushed towards my location.

Unsurprising. I would have to try something else.

Using the memory, I tried to reverse its existence, but it did not do anything. As expected.

The memory could not alter anything that did not exist in the land I govern as its Heart, but it might be possible if all the people of Astralyth recognized my role. Unfortunately, that would take too much time.

A sharp object flew past me, cutting some strands of my hair. I glanced at the unknown object and saw it disappear. It was made of the same energy that was coming out of that magic circle.

The creature cackled. Its size grew slightly. Did leaving a wound on me allow it to grow? It might be.

Time went on as I tried a few other methods to fight the demon. Each strategy was fruitless, and it felt frustrating. Extremely so.

My eyes gazed upon Pyrrhos, who had now piled up a mountain of the same demons. I sighed, feeling dejected, but even so, I did not have the feeling of wanting to give up.

I am no mere King amongst the other pieces. I exist as a being of my own purpose.

I steadied my voice. It had been a while since I've spoken with Arcana. “Arcana. Heed my will.”

A sarcastic, humiliating laughter erupted in my head. The voice that I both despise and the same one that gave me hope.

“Oh, look who came crying? You really are incapable without me! You thought that lamb could help, did you? Oh my, you're so unfortunate.”

“Are you capable of acting on my will? If not, you'll have to pay for talking that way about Alpheratz.” I retorted, feeling somewhat disappointed in him. I still do not know why exactly he disliked Alpheratz to that extent, but isn't he too much?

“Hpmt! Aren't you so serious? Well, of course, I can do anything! A Kingdom was even named after my existence!”

I avoided another barrage of attacks aimed at me. It seemed that he had called some of his fellows. “Then take over me, and kill all of those that seek to destroy Astralyth.”

Arcana laughed. It was enough to tell me how glad it made him, but whatever he tried to do, and if it wasn't in my will, it could not be done. Arcana was a dangerous ally, a double-edged sword. It could be a source of immense power, but it could also be my undoing. I had to find a way to harness its power, to control it, to make it work for me.

But how?

The memory interrupted me, and my mind was taken to the day that Arcana first spoke to me. That day, he had told me that the Heart of Ember and the Core were fighting him inside me.

That's it!

It might be dangerous to use the power of the Heart of Ember and the Core, but I needed to try.

I began to harness the power of the Heart of Ember through my Core. Its power gave me a sense of calmness. The familiar comfort of the warm sensation surged through my whole body. I felt the strong crackling of energy from my Core, I felt thrilled. Almost as if my body had been longing to wield such power again. It overlapped with the freezing sensation that always bothered me under Arcana's presence. It restored the peace that I had always loved.

As the demons neared me, I called forth the power of Arcana through a spell. I calmed my voice, there was no need for me to shout. I only need to envision what I want clearly in my mind. “Valth’nar k’tresh n’gorthak.”

A deafening sound of the explosion buzzed painfully in my ears. No, it was more than just like a buzz. It was as loud as the cries of a mighty dragon. The ground under us collapsed further from the impact as the bodies of the demons flew all over the surface beneath me. Their guts began to spill out from their mouths as the bright golden light pushed it from their insides, coiling all over the organs. It was a cruel sight, something I did not like, but it was necessary.

I'm not done yet.

Pulling out more of Arcana's power, I begin to convert it into a large pool of mana, encrypting it into the image of the spell. This particular spell is said to defy the law of the realm, but as its Heart, I couldn't care less. “Valth’nar k’tresh k’zothar; Displace the corruption in our land.”

The veins exploded loudly, each one burst with stomach-wrenching red liquid that turned whatever it touched into sickly, little crawling demons. Regardless, the power of the spell continued its battle. Trying its very best to expel what I had it exterminate. The air began to whistle an ethereal melody, syncing with the movement of the spell that surged through the surface like the beautiful waves of the ocean.

I watched as the demons struggled to step out from the portal. The spell had dominated the land, as I had imagined it, an ocean with the color of bright morning skies purely made of mana battled with the dark ocean mist that had drowned underneath.

The demons that had plagued the sky above seem to be being pulled by an invisible force back into the portal, they struggled to set themselves free but none of their attempts prove to be of any use.

Despite their aggressiveness, my eyes caught pain and suffering that hid itself in their eyes that must be purer than the mystifying purple obsidian.

Is our killing of their kind the right thing to do? I understand that their anger is rooted from the manipulation they had suffered from my kind, but their forces trampled on the innocent this time.

Yet, I do not plan to continue this bloodied battle. We're not enemies.

“Lyra, open the gates for the other civilizations within this land.”

In my head, I could hear her chuckle. “My, my, you're learning quite quickly!"

Learning quite quickly? Knowing Lyra, she meant that phrase in more than one way.

She hummed cheerfully, I gazed behind me and watched her briefly. Lyra is still occupied in maintaining the gate, it might require even more of her energy to open multiple gates.

“As you wish!" she exclaimed.