Witch of Fear [Mild horror, Isekai High Fantasy]

Wild-shod hooves rumbled the flooded tunnels and cavernous holds of the dark under the earth, proclaiming war and death with every drumbeat — a grand host called forth by a pact broken. Down came the sunlit riders, those forebears of catastrophe, to carve and cut the foulest of hagcraft amongst the baying of their hounds and their own scornful laughter. Down came the emerald knights wielding blades of glass and sunlight with unmatched fury. Down came a wild hunt — and with it the dying days of summer.

The spring king laughed at the queen of summer’s displeasure.

And when that grand archfey turned her ire to the one who’d caused her such a misstep — the Fair Maiden lingering in the dark — the fey and mortal realms twisted and warped until they blended into one.

A warhorn bellowed to spur the wild hunt on. 

Unknowingly, a witch sailed towards it. 

Autumn scowled down at the bleak waters that swept their sleigh-turned-boat along. Fond was not a word she’d have used to describe her encounters with it or its ilk. The witch had run afoul of every river she’d come across — from the River Styx and its drowned dead to viking longships, quill-throwing crocodiles, and an ambush of undeath at the end of another. Even the one they rode now had tried to drown her before and had ultimately sent her into a nightmare journey. Needless to say, she wasn’t too keen to be journeying down another river again.

“Hey! Are you seasick as well?” Liddie called out as she stood firm-footed at the stern of the sleigh-boat — nary a green gill in sight. The same couldn’t be said for Pyre and Eme as the pair of girls were currently hurling their stomachs into the water’s flow. It was rather impressive how easily they got sick, seeing as how the levitation runes on the bottom of their craft acted as a sort of stabilizer, allowing them to bob along rather gently.

“No,” Autumn replied. “I just hate rivers.”

“Yeah? Me too! I find them far too narrow,” Liddie commiserated with her. “It’s the open sea that calls me, not this river-rafting nonsense!”

“I don’t know if you can call this a raft,” Autumn said as she looked over the sleigh. As she and Eme had built it to accommodate eight bodies and the chests of loot, it was large enough to hold all seven of them — if a little tight.

Much to the other’s amusement and the pair’s embarrassment, Autumn and Eme had been squished together at the bow to serve as lookouts and a guiding light. However, Eme had grown increasingly embarrassed once the rush of excitement had worn off, leading her to blush bright-red while her stomach twisted itself into knots — which hadn’t helped with her motion sickness.

Autumn patted the poor girl’s back as she hurled once more over the side of the boat.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” Nelva said with a smile. 

“Congratulations?” Autumn asked, turning towards the Lepus. 

Nelva nodded to Eme, who was still painting the waterways below with her breakfast. “For your — I suppose engagement isn’t the right word, is it? Well, it doesn’t matter. When do you think you’ll be picking your mistresses? Do let me know — I’ve a few friends that might like your pairing.”

Autumn choked on her spit. 

From her place at the stern, Liddie leant over to the bewildered Lepus staring at the choking witch. “Psst, Nelva. I don’t think humans do that sort of thing — they’re more like Elves, from what I remember.”

Nelva blinked, scandalized. “Really? But how do they expect to take care of all their kits? Surely they don’t leave them with a servant.” She gasped.

“No, no…Well, some of them do, but I recall humans only have around five to seven babies over their lifetime.” Liddie poked a socially dying Autumn with her foot. “Hey! How many babies do you have?” 

“Liddie,” Nethlia sighed, “you can’t just ask someone how many babies they have.”

“What? How else are we meant to know?” 

Red-faced and breathless, Autumn crawled up from the floor to glare at the pirate who’d kicked her. “I haven’t had any children! If you must know, human women tend to have around two to three children where I’m from. And what’s this about mistresses?!”

“I am sorry if I have offended you,” Nelva apologized. “For Lepus, we gentledoes have around thirteen kits over our lives — not that we live much longer than humans. So in our culture, it’s traditional to take on a paramour or two to care for the litters. I know little about human culture so I just assumed, and I apologized again for that.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Autumn said to soothe her worries. “If it’s not too much to ask — you said you were engaged before? Did you have any lovers?”

Nelva blushed. “Lovers isn’t the word I’d use for it, but I had my eye on a handsome gentlebuck.”

“Wait,” Eme interrupted as she turned to look at them. While the catgirl still looked queasy, she had nothing more in her stomach to give to the water. “I thought humans were like Lepus with mistresses and all that. If that isn’t right, then why…?” she trailed off as she looked confusingly between Autumn and Nethlia. 

Everyone turned to the witch for an explanation. 

Autumn blushed, not able to meet their eyes. “Umm, where I’m from, it’s expected that a relationship is just between two people. It’s not the case everywhere, but the country I was from looked down on polyamorous relationships — multiple partners that is.”

“Oh~” Liddie exclaimed as the light of understanding bloomed in everyone’s eyes. “That explains why you were acting so funny after you two fucked.” 

“Liddie!!!” Autumn yelled as she blanched. 

Liddie snorted as she rolled her eyes at the panicking witch. “Oh calm down, everybody knew.”

“Everyone?” Autumn asked in a mortified whisper, and when they all nodded she turned to the water rushing by, “is it too late to drown myself?”

Seeing Autumn’s distress, Nethlia patted her on the back. “Yep, that ship has sailed. To be honest, if I knew this was such a big deal for you, I’d have said something earlier — it’s just hard to remember that other races do things differently.”

Comforted, Autumn turned away from the water with a sigh. “If it’s not too much to ask — how do your races do relationships?”

Nethlia was the first to speak. “Remember how I told you about how we were freed from the hells?” at Autumn’s nod, she continued. “Well, when we were slaves to the devils, they didn’t give us the freedom to choose who we’d couple with — they breed us like prized Agoroth to be bigger, stronger, tougher. So, ever since then, we see relationships as needing to be free, and we despise arranged marriages.”

Autumn started when she remembered something. “Wait — so, all that stuff with Gilralei’s father?” 

“Yup. He’s an idiot who didn’t bother to learn about our culture. When Gilralei makes it back, our people will clear everything up. I doubt anyone took him seriously.” Nethlia reassured Autumn.

“What’s this about Capt…about Gilralei?” Em asked. 

“Oh, right, you didn’t know. Back in Fort Rainguard — God that feels so long ago, anyway — we overheard her father saying he arranged a marriage between her and the son of Duskfields mayor…it’s a mayor, right?” Autumn asked, glancing around at the others.

“Governess.” Nethlia corrected. “Which is doubly stupid of him, seeing as how the Empire has a meritocratic inheritance.”

“Right.” Autumn had guessed it was something similar after she’d heard how Liddie had been granted a second name for her deeds. Turning back to Eme, she curiously asked, “so, um, how about your people? How do they do relationships?”

Eme blushed, averting her eyes as she spoke. “Ah, it’s kinda similar to how Inferni do it, I guess? But I think it’s because we’re a bit lazy and too independent — we get a wanderlust sometimes,” she gestured to herself as a prime example. “However, the main difference is with our ancestors.”

“You worship them, right?” Nelva asked, to which Eme nodded. “How is that involved?”

“I was getting to that. We don’t do marriages or whatever, but when we love someone,” she blushed, “we bring our partners back home to seek our ancestor’s blessing. If the ancestors accept the tom or queen we’ve chosen, then they’ll be forever a part of the family, even if we aren’t together for long.”

“That sounds serious,” Autumn breathed out. “Also, queen?”

Eme shrugged, “it’s not that bad — I’ve just got a lot of uncles and aunties. Queen is just the name for a female Felis.”

‘So, not catgirl,’ Autumn pouted secretly in her mind.

“Hey, seeing as we’re doing all this lovey-dovey stuff — what about you Pyre? How do your people make love?” Liddie poked the sickly-looking girl. 

Pyre glared back at her. “Ingis Lutum — and Lutum in general — aren’t born, we're made. So it’s purely transactional. Two or more Lutum will share their lifeclay and make another. No lovemaking involved.”

“Right~ How about you, Edwy—”

The gruff Manus cut the pirate off. “We have clans. Clans make babies. End of discussion.”

“Umm guys?” Autumn spoke up, interrupting whatever Liddie was going to say. “I’ve had a sudden thought — how are we meant to steer this boat?”

An awkward silence descended upon the group as they realized they were at the mercy of the water’s flow, one which was quickly picking up speed. The water ahead of them grew wild and turbulent as it thundered down a series of roaring rapids. Shocked into motion by the sight, the adventurers hurried about their craft to tie their gear down, all the while listening to Liddie and Edwyn throwing out desperate ideas on steering their runaway vessel.

“Sails!! Liddie yelled, “we need to use those air runes to gain us a headwind!”

Edwyn scoffed as they tugged a knot tight. “Are ye draft?! They’re Air-burst runes — they’ll rip right throu’ cloth!! And how ye gonna get sails down here?! Sew our pants together?! Nay, we need rudder!”

“A rudder?!” Liddie laughed as she tied herself to the sleigh. “Those rocks’ll smash it to pieces, you ol’ codger!”

The pair continued their bickering even as the sleigh-boat drew closer to the tumultuous descent. Autumn yelped as they struck a rock hidden beneath the waves, almost causing her to bite her tongue as she desperately lashed down her pack. There was nothing more she could do other than hold on as they crested the edge of the rapids and barreled down the thunderous path.

“Hold on tight!!!” Nelva screamed, slammed into the first set of rapids.

The sleigh bounced violently as it slammed into riotous waters and hidden rocks, threatening to rip the adventurers from the safety of their strange craft. Only a tight grip on their hastily lashed ropes and each other kept them from being swept overboard. Autumn herself kept a solid grasp upon Eme as the thundering swells tossed them about, her own safety entrusted to Nethlia’s powerful arm.

However, it wasn’t just the wild black rapids that sought to capsize them as they ricocheted from swell to swell like a pinball, but a pod of naiads — nymphs with oceanic skin, flowing locks of seaweed-like hair, and a pair of overly large, watery eyes — too came to flood their craft. The nubile maidens latched onto the craft before Autumn could even utter a word of warning, guiding it into the worst of the rapids as they giggled at the adventurer’s plight.

“Stop that!” Autumn yelled in the river’s tongue at the water maidens, but they simply ignored her and continued flooding the sleigh, giggling coyly still. “I’m warning you!” the witch yelled once more and once more she was ignored in favor of their drowning game. When the next swell slammed her back down into her seat, Autumn lost her temper and screamed, “begone with you!”

The word of power crashed into the naiads and sent them screaming backward, freeing the watercraft from their grasp. Insulted and annoyed, the naiads wordlessly hissed at Autumn before diving below the frothing waves to call upon others to deal with the inhospitable witch in their stead.

“Undead freebooters off the port side!!!” Liddie yelled as she stuck down with a white-gold edge onto clammy hands attempting to pull themselves aboard. A drowned dead man fell back into the surf, leaving a pair of stiff hands behind.

However, more water-bloated hands gripped onto the watercraft in its place.

“To battle stations, you scurvy dogs! Cast these foul creatures back into the drink!” Liddie yelled as she continued to slash and chop at clawing hands. 

Autumn’s thick-heeled boot slammed into an undead’s slimy face as it tried to bite her, sending it sailing back into the dark waters with a splash. The way ahead of them was lit up by the Ferryman’s lantern and when Autumn turned to look, she paled as a new obstacle loomed before her. Hurriedly, she yelled back towards the others. 

“There’s a fork in the river!!!”

True to her words the raging river was split in twain. Autumn’s eyes flickered from left to right trying to discern the correct path — there wasn’t any time to pull out a map.

“Which way?!” Nethlia shouted as she swept the starboard side clean of undead with her pole-hammer. “Make a choice, and quick!!” 

While indecision paralyzed Autumn’s mind, the ring on her finger glowed brightly, illuminating her to its owner’s wise words from what felt like a lifetime ago — “Fret not, young mortal, we shall meet again. I’m already looking forward to it,” the Ferryman had said. “Oh, and go left.”

“LEFT!!!” Autumn screamed, not a doubt in her mind. 

“Hard to port!” Liddie commanded.

Edwyn grunted in reply and threw one of their runes off to the starboard side of the boat. The air-burst rune detonated underwater with a heavy thud, sending a mighty wave crashing into the side of the boat that cast them down the left-hand tunnel. However, the water didn’t slow as Autumn had hoped, instead the currents propelled them faster and faster until they were thundering down the tightening corridor. 

While bouncing high from her bony seat, Eme got a glimpse further down the clamorous tunnel and yelped in fright from what she saw. The catgirl screamed to be heard over the rising roar of water.

“Waterfall dead ahead!!!”

Nethlia cursed. “Hold on tight!!!” she said, just before the sleigh flew over the edge of the waterfall. 

Weightlessness pulled Autumn from her seat as they all tumbled down, down, down towards a frothing pool below. Once more, a body of water rushed up to meet a free-falling witch, and she crashed right through the turbulent mass — the pressure of the pound waterfall dragging Autumn ever deeper. She struggled against the weight of the water, but Autumn didn’t even know which way was up and the river would not let her free from the watery tomb it’d designed for her.

Beyond the waterfall lay a river pacified — the current still and the surface glass. There was no sign of the adventurers above the placid water, not for a moment, nor two or three until the sleigh came rocketing upwards like a cork, dragging with it several sodden adventurers.

A bedraggled Autumn spluttered and coughed as Nethlia dumped her aboard their boat before she dived back down to rescue those of them still missing — a miserable kitten and a doused alchemist soon joined her. 

When they were all back aboard their bobbing cart, Liddie turned to Autumn and sullenly said, “I think you might’ve chosen the wrong path.”

Autumn shook her head. “No, I think this is the right way.”

“Why do you think that?” Nethlia asked. 

“Well, I’d say that’s a big clue,” Autumn said as she pointed forward. 

Rising over the river was an archway of brightly glowing bioluminescent mushrooms, growing from walls of rich, primal mud. Pixies flittered and chittered amongst the caps as they watched the party float towards the arch of wonder. Beyond the brilliant portal sprawled a colossal cavern dominated by the gargantuan gemstone corpse of an ancient and fallen earth elemental.

Autumn gulped. “We’re in the Feywild.”