Running a Tavern as a Former Witch!

The clouds above looked down with much glum, it was my fault. I felt torn between joy and self-hate. I am joyful to have accomplished what would make my people proud, and I felt angry for allowing myself to become who I had become.

I must pay.

I retrieved my hands from my face, and looked around the ruined wonderland. The land of the enemy that I had wanted to take, I wish that I was that girl. If I was Elara, perhaps I would've dealt with my fate as properly as she did.

I knelt near the magic circle, in the middle of it is a large gaping portal from another world where other creatures exist; one of them being the dark-type familiar of our old ancestors. Their abilities are said to be able to go beyond the principle, but it was not evil. At least, it was not intended to be evil. To be used by evil.

With the last bit of my energy, I called for a name.

“Come forth, Eclipse!" I demanded in the most steadiest voice I could muster.

A figure materialized from the swirling vortex, a being of shadows and whispers, a creature of the gaps between memories. Eclipse. The demon who feasts on forgotten pain, on the whispers of regret that haunt the edges of our minds.

He hovered just in front of me, his eyes staring into my soul. I felt scared. His eyes alone dictated what he wanted, what he desired.

Please, let this not be another mistake…

"Punishment," I rasped, my voice barely a whisper. "Punish me."

He chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Punishment? You seek to atone for your sins, slaved witch? But what punishment could possibly be worthy of the pain you've inflicted?"

I knew what I had to do. I had to make it hurt. Make it real. Make it impossible to forget.

"Take my hand," I said, my voice stronger now, laced with a strange, cold resolve. "Make it as painful as possible. I don't deserve to raise it against anyone ever again. I have caused too much suffering."

He smiled, a cruel, predatory grin. "As you wish."

He reached for my hand, his touch cold and sharp. The pain was unbearable, like my arm was being ripped from my body, like my bones were being crushed. I screamed, a raw, primal sound ripped from my throat, but it was swallowed by the deafening silence of the magic circle's hum. It felt like my arm was being wrenched from its socket, bone grinding against bone, tendons snapping like brittle threads. The pain was so intense, so consuming, that I thought I would black out.

But then, a strange numbness crept in. The pain didn't disappear, but it became distant, like a fading echo. I looked down, and my hand was gone. A bloody stump, pulsing with a dull ache, was all that remained. Tears welled up on my eyes.

This isn't enough.

"My hearing. Take it. I don't deserve to hear the cries of those I've hurt anymore."

He raised his hand, and a wave of searing pain washed over me. It felt like my ears were being ripped from my head, like fire was being poured into my skull. I screamed, but the sound died in my throat, swallowed by the agony.

When the pain subsided, I was deaf. The world was silent, a hollow echo of what it had been.

He looked at me, his moon-like eyes reflecting the horror in my own. It was mesmerizing, yet nerve-wrecking. His mouth opened and mouthed, "Now, what else?"

"My tongue," I choked out, the words rasping past my dry lips. "Take it. I don't deserve to speak anymore. My words have caused too much pain."

He smiled, a cruel, predatory grin. "As you wish."

He touched my lips, and the pain was unlike anything I had ever known. It was as if my tongue was being torn from my mouth, as if fire was licking at my throat. I thrashed, I screamed, but the only sound that escaped my lips was a strangled, guttural moan. I was not even certain if I was making any sound.

Long white hair gently brushed my skin as he leaned closely. Eclipse held me by my chin and stared into my eyes. It felt as if I was being absorbed into them. I watched as his lips mouthed words. “You've shown me something interesting, I shall not demand payments. Not from you. It is not ripe, not right yet.”

I stared at him, my sight the only sense left to me. The only sense left to witness the consequences of my actions.

He vanished into the swirling vortex with a contented grin, leaving me alone in the silence, a prisoner of my own self-inflicted punishment. I was deaf, mute, and crippled, a testament to the power of my own mistakes. But I could still see. And in seeing, I would learn. I would atone.

I would see my fault.