Zafira Moonchild

I screamed, divinity, I screamed. I was expecting to relive her memories like a movie, or from the perspective of being trapped in her body. Instead, all of her memories washed over me at once, and I drowned in them. Carnelia Hemsworth was a simple farmer’s daughter. She lived a quiet, but happy life. Working in the fields with her father, or helping out around the house with her mother. She enjoyed both, and her parents never pushed her in one direction or the other. She loved the stories of the town’s wizard. While he was by no means a powerful spellcaster, he had studied at a proper magic school, and loved talking about it. But even though she had spent many hours listening to him, she never felt a desire to wander out into the world herself. She loved her town and the life she led in it. And as far as she was concerned, this was where she would stay forever.

All of this changed abruptly, when she was kidnapped by bandits. She’d hoped that they would let her go once they realized there was no one that could pay a decent ransom for her. She couldn’t have been more wrong. I try to push the memories away, but they keep coming back. The hunger in their eyes, as one of them said in a jolly voice, so boss, does that mean that we can have some fun before selling her? The week she spent in the bandit’s camp before managing to escape keeps replaying in my head. No matter how much I want it to stop, the only thing I can do is scream, as I go through that hell over and over again.

I do not know how long I stayed like this. But when I finally regain a bit of grip on the world around me. I find myself in my sacred space outside of time, and thank the spirits that I’m at least safe here. Pulling my kitten close against my chest, I cry myself to sleep. Hoping that the nightmare won’t follow me here. But I have no such luck, as every time I manage to fall asleep, I hear that jolly voice, and relive the week again, only waking up when I finally die.

I lost count of how many times this cycle repeats. But when I finally open my eyes in the real world, I am myself once again. Carnelia’s memories are still there, but I no longer have any feelings about them. They feel distant now, just like my time in the void did after arriving here. I sigh, I was too panicked at the time to truly recognize what had happened. But now, here I am, at the same place, doing the exact same thing again. I separated it from my sense of self, so I wouldn’t have to bear the weight of it. Integrating that later on will be a real bitch, I mumble to myself, I wonder if it’s even worth trying. At least for now, I’m beyond grateful that this coping mechanism from my previous life triggered again.

Ok Zafira, priority check, you’re drained both magically and mentally, find a safe place to rest, and put everything else on hold. I slap my cheeks, and get up, settling back into my now familiar routine of finding a safe spot to sleep.

I wake up well rested, grateful for a night without any dreams. It feels like a fog has been lifted from my mind. And I know what needs to be done, without the shadow of a doubt.

Carnelia had managed to escape when the bandits were drunk. But one of them had still made an attempt to stop her. She had gotten away from him, but not before he severely wounded her. A wound that would ultimately become her demise. She knew she would not make it, but never gave up trying. Her last thoughts, when her body finally succumbed, were echoing through my mind now: Please, divinity, infernal or beyond, I will pay any price for vengeance, don’t let this be the end.

A part of me cries, and a part of me rejoices, as I set up my ritual, preparing to answer her prayer. I draw a circle of protection, in my mind and on the forest floor. And drive out any other influences from it. Then I make a pentagram inside of it, with representations of the five elements at its corners. I kneel inside of it, but this time, instead of finding stillness inside, I feed the fire of my emotions, and focus on my rage and hatred instead, as I chant.

Stone, crushing with the weight of a mountain,

I call you as witness.

Wind, howling as you blind and tear,

I call you as witness.

Fire, destroying without distinction,

I call you as witness.

Water, fetid bogs of poison and decay,

I call you as witness.

Spirit, broken and shattered,

I call you as witness.

Zafira Moonchild answers the call of Carnelia Hemsworth.

A contract, ascending time.

Her body, for vengeance.

The pact is sealed,

before all those gathered.

By our will, so mote it be.