Dracen Phyre - Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Riding over the rough land, Chasen followed the small shaft of light from the note the Dreamer had sent. A locator spell showed her the direction to go to find the bridge. Maps and compasses were almost completely useless. The landscape changed and shifted too often. But many still tried. The only real dependable way to navigate the Wild was by Witch Rose. Chasen had one tucked away, one of her most valuable possessions. It was also one of the few items that was Witch in origin that she was comfortable with. However, casting with the Rose used energy she didn’t need to expend at the moment. With the note, Chasen didn’t need to invest anything in the spell, it was all done for her.
There were no longer roads, some paths and tracks from other Hunters driving out in different directions laid out trails to follow, but the shifting landscape made them unreliable. She wasn’t even past the rock terrain. For a few miles around the Capital the area was rocky, crumbling asphalt and stone everywhere. Past that stretched sand and ash, a desert of sorts. The land should have been fertile, but there was too much heat and rage in the atmosphere. Few plants grew anywhere, those that did were desert heat dwellers or coaxed by Witches. Chasen had only heard stories about the plant gardens Witches maintained. It seemed an extraordinary and extravagant luxury.
The sun was searing; oppressive heat and light pounding down. A glance up showed that an ash cloud looked to be moving in. It would be better to find some shelter to wait it out if possible. They weren’t dangerous most of the time, but occasionally the ash would get into a running airship or steam-bike engine and gum up the works. Sandstorms were more annoying with the grit and bite of the blowing sand everywhere. Downshifting, Chasen turned as the note’s slow pulsing light suddenly spiked to the south west. That was about the only reliable direction point of reference anymore; the sun and stars. Even with the tilting of the Earth axis and the North and South poles stars changing, they still remained constant for navigation purposes. And the sun continued to rise in the east and set in the west. Blinking back tears from the bright light of the sun, Chasen noted that she was going to miss the ash cloud. Good. A delay of waiting that out could cause her to miss the Bridge’s window.
She drove for what seemed like days, the landscape ever the same even as she occasionally switched direction at the Witch note’s prompting. It was vast and quiet. Few animals roamed about and those that did chose to stay hidden. She didn’t meet any other Hunters, humans, or metas while driving. Though that too was not uncommon. Few people traveled outside of their home settlements now. It was often too risky to go long distances. Too much lurked in the darkness of the Wild.
Chasen pulled to a stop as the Witch note began to pulse with light and energy. She idled a moment looking around. A jutting of stone and asphalt caught her eye. She allowed her sight to unfocus and examined the area. A slight distortion appeared near the jutting. Shutting the engine off, Chasen swung her leg over and walked the steam-bike to the Bridge’s anchor. Her fingers moved to pull the Witch note out, light spiking from the note to the distortion. A second light beam appeared through the distortion, linking together. As the pale blue of her end combined with soft pink, the link turned lavender. Chasen took a deep breath as the Bridge was established. Keeping hold of the note, she dropped her hand back to the gear shift handle and steered the steam-bike through the distortion. It felt like walking through a pounding waterfall, only less violent. There was a tugging and certain lethargy on her limbs as she walked the Bridge. She could see nothing around her, only feel the oppressive restriction.
Suddenly the lethargy was gone and her sight returned. Gasping, Chasen leaned against her bike for balance and to catch her breath. Rolling her shoulders, she looked around. The distortion and Bridge closed behind her. There was a faint popping and a slight smell of ozone. Chasen glanced behind her to see that an endless expanse of sand with a different landscape than she been in behind her. She truly wasn’t where she’d been.
Suddenly the Witch note crackled and the blue light speared out to the east. Turning to see, Chasen froze. She’d never been near a Witch enclave before. There was little need for Hunters to go near them or Witches to come to the Capital or any Hunter settlement. The treaty or any other matter concerning the Enclave Leaders or Council of Elders were talked about among the leaders at a mutually chosen and neutral location.
Even the rumors didn’t do justice to the sight of a Witch city. River Rock stood in the distance, likely a few miles away, but so large it appeared closer. Though that was likely also thanks to the flat land and starkness of surrounding features. Nestled at an intersection of two rivers, a white palace rose above a smaller dotting of buildings. Lush green spread around and cradled the structure. The water was deep blue and calm. It was beautiful. Chasen could hardly believe the sight. She’d never seen so much water before. Settling herself on her bike, she twisted the key and jumped the engine. The low rumble roar and steam hiss was a comfort in the midst of this alien landscape and sight. With a deep breath, Chasen rode over the flat toward the Witch city, the Witch note guiding her.
Riding around almost the entire city of River Rock, Chasen finally came to a gate. The large doors stood open, but the flickering pulse of blue to red light from the Witch note warned Chasen not to enter. Stopping the bike and standing, she approached the gate. Holding her hand to the empty space between the doors, she sensed a barrier. One subtle, but powerful in construction. She felt threads of Power uncoiling and bumping against her inner barriers. It felt like snakes slithering over her mind. Shivering at the cool feeling, she waited. The coils gave a last flick before retreating. The Witch note glowed a soft gold.
Gathering her bike, Chasen walked through the barrier. She didn’t feel anything as she passed the doors. It was a bit anti-climactic after the pounding she’d endured coming over the bridge. It was with sudden realization that she felt a mutedness to her internal Hunter sense. It was as if all her intuitive readings were muffled.
Moving past the barrier, Chasen marveled at the opulence around her. Never had she seen such finery and architecture. The Witch Enclave’s buildings were a pristine white that appeared to be single huge chunks of stone with detailed carvings on the surfaces. With the buildings there were plants, flowers, and trees that lined the pathways between portalways of the buildings. They were bright bursts for color against the stark white.
Swallowing, Chasen looked around nervously hoping to see something that could indicate where she was to go. There were no obvious signs with directions, nor did she see any Witches.
Stepping away from her air-bike, Chasen adjusted the kickstand before turning to see out the doorway she’d come. Except there was nothing directly behind her but a smooth unbroken wall. The blocks were the same uniform and pristine white of the buildings around her. Moving forward. That was all she could do now. There was no going back.
Around here there was no one. Only hard packed earth pathways led in three directions. Choosing the one that apparently led to the central building battlement, Chasen pushed her bike along. On either side of the path were open fields. There were farmed land fields with staple food items growing.
She stopped short as a young woman approached. She was tan with long flowing blonde hair and honey eyes. She wore a simple dress of white cloth, artfully draped over her form. The fabric was sheer, nearly translucent. Shadows showing her form beneath. Coils and rings of gold slipped around her neck and shoulders held the fabric up. An elegant twisting of gold cinched her waist. Her feet were bare against the smooth white marble floor.
“Welcome, Hunter.” She tilted her head in a sign of respect, her hands curled in front of her waist. Her eyes were a large and luminous honey color, slanted cat like at the corners. Chasen tried hard not to stare. There was something unnaturally alien in her beauty. Her voice was soft and pleasant.
Chasen suddenly felt the accumulation of dirt and sweat from her ride through the Wilds. Her breeches were stiff with salt, her boots covered in dirt and ash, the laces and buckles hidden beneath layers of grey and brown. She shivered as she realized it was cooler here than on the other side of the portal doors. It made the wet sweat rings under her arms press to her and give her a chill.
“Greetings, Witch.” She intoned carefully, her hands dropping from the bike’s handlebars to be held open at her sides. Lessons in etiquette rushed through her brain, reminding her that open hands meant she wished no harm or intended to do none.
The Witch blinked at her sleepily. “Come.” She moved with graceful elegance, her arm extending to show Chasen the way to follow.
Chasen hesitated, her hands returning the grip the handle bars.
“Please, leave your belongings. We will take care of them.” The Witch smiled gently at her. And if that didn’t freak her out even more. The smile seemed a little too wide, teeth a little to white; almost predatory. Chasen suddenly remembered that Witches were descendants of Undines. It wasn’t often that a Hunter met another humanoid predator, especially one so subtle. It was throwing her off balance a bit.
Nodding, Chasen took a deep breath and followed the Witch. Her feet treading heavily over the marble. She had to curb the desire to turn and see if ash and dirt were falling in her wake. The Witch led her around a large courtyard area with a stream running through it. Large trees grew shading the lush green. They stepped off of the marble on to the green. Chasen was shocked at the soft crushing under her boots. Grass. This was grass. She’d heard of it, but never thought she’d see it let alone walk through it. A pungent aroma rose from the snapped blades under her feet. It wasn’t pleasant or unpleasant, merely different.
Forcing herself to resist the urge to fall and roll through the spongy softness, Chasen continued to follow the Witch. She spotted other Witches lounging in the shade of the trees, sitting together chatting and reading. A few were spell weaving; the Castings shimmering in the air as they murmured and drew with their fingertips. She felt eyes on her, her hackles rising. So many Witches pausing to watch her, studying her, their gazes were intent and probing. She was a Hunter. They could feel that just as she could feel they were Witch. So much Power coiling and uncoiling around her and testing her barriers, it was a slimy and sickly feeling moving over her insides. She grit her teeth and ignored them. It was rude to test someone like this. But she was the outsider here; anything she said or did in reaction could be seen as hostile and an attack. She had to maintain her presence; she was a lone Hunter in a Witch Enclave.
The Witch leading her suddenly stopped, turning to cast a look over the gathered Witches. Chasen stopped and nearly stumbled as the Power probing her suddenly retreated. “My apologizes, Hunter. I will see that the Duchess is made aware of this slight on your behalf.”
Chasen barely managed a nod in the face of the sudden retreat and the mention of the Duchess caused her to tense.
The Duchess. The current head of the Witches Enclaves. She was powerful, and had been leading the Witches for the last five years. She’d worked well with the Hunters to maintain the treaty between their peoples. Highly respected among the Council of Elders, Chasen had heard rumors of her Power, intelligence, and beauty. Which if the Witch leading her or any of the others she’d seen weren’t beautiful, Chasen worried about what beauty meant. She also wondered what true beauty could do; incite rebellions or killings perhaps, Chasen hoped she never found out.
The Witch turned again, her movements slow and fluid, leading her down a narrow hall. Pausing at a door, her hand swept over the side where a handle or knob would normally be. “Press you hand here.” Chasen pressed her hand to the door, feeling the surface thrum and heat under her touch. “It is now keyed to you. Evening meal will be in a few hours. Please rest until then.” The Witch tilted her head as if in study and smiled slightly. Her lips barely curving upward.
Chasen nodded as the door swung open. Clearing her throat she returned the smile, “Thank you.”
The Witch moved away from the door, leaving Chasen to glance around before slipping inside. Shutting the door behind her, she took in her room and surroundings. Her belongs were resting on the floor at the foot of a bed. Or at least Chasen assumed it was a bed. It was a large expanse of pillows and blankets with enough room to fit at least three people.
There were lush carpets covering the floor. In the distance, Chasen saw an arched doorway. She slipped through the room, marveling at the luxury. Her feet almost seemed to sink into the floor the carpeting was so plush and thick. Poking her head through the doorway, Chasen discovered a bathing area. She blinked, she’d never seen a bathing pool attached to a room nor one so large outside of a public bathhouse. It was a large circular pool that would easily accommodate six people. They were typically in a separate house in the Hunter cities. She couldn’t believe that everyone here had one. What an overt luxury.
Thinking on what she knew of Witch life, she remembered that Witches were exceptionally sensual creatures. Walking through the courtyard gave her a taste of that. There are been several simply lounging against each other for touch. She knew that some of their power could be amplified by touch and that creating that physical bond was important. But she didn’t really understand it. Hunters were solitary, acting instead as individuals instead of in groups.
Swallowing, Chasen moved back into her room. She pulled her cap from her head and the goggles from around her neck. Both were caked in road dust and dirt. It was then that she realized she was indeed trailing puffs of dust after her.
Wrinkling her nose, she carefully shucked her coat. It too was coated in a thick layer of dirt, ash, and sand. Spying a few hooks near an old wardrobe, she hung her coat. Her belts and satchel were next. She removed her lower back sheath, and settled it against her boots. Unlacing and unbuckling them, she slipped her feet free, moaning at the feel of the plush carpet on her socked toes. Peeling those off, she wiggled her toes. It was like standing on a cloud, or at least what she imagined that to be like. She moved the boots to rest against the wall under her hanging clothing. She set the small blade and sheath to lean against the wall near her boots. Chasen noted that they would all need a good scrubbing and cleaning. Her blade was sure to be covered and would need a polishing if it was to be drawn right from the sheath.
She straightened and slid her other dagger from a sheath at her side. This blade was longer, with a pointed tip that was split up the middle with a gap of about a half inch that ended in a stamping of a seven pointed star. The hilt was wrapped in black leather and twine. She loved the blade; it could catch a down swinging blade and allow her to wrench it from her enemy’s hand. She placed the hilt in her mouth as she finished divesting herself. Walking naked to the bathing area, her dagger in hand, she moved to the steps leading into the steaming water.
The surface was murky and milky with heat. Chasen carefully slipped into the water, her dagger at the edge of the pool. She dunked her head, and quickly resurfaced. Wiping the water from her eyes, she scanned the area, her eyes lighting on brightly colored glass bottles on a tray near edge of the pool opposite the door she’d come through. She slid over, her fingers tracing the etchings in the glass. Plucking the stoppers, she sniffed each finding some scents more pleasant than others. She didn’t often get to bathe with something scented. Most Hunters preferred to use unscented soap from themselves and their clothing. It suddenly occurred to her to hope that she still had a small cake of soap for her clothes in her satchel. But there wasn’t any harm in using one of the softer smells for herself.
Pouring some of the cool liquid into her hands, she sifted the soap through her hair, smoothing the suds down the long strands to the tips. She left it in her hair a moment, as she poured more, and moved to the steps. Her eyes constantly scanning the area, her dagger in eyesight and easy lunging distance. She moved out of the water, and smoothed the soap over her breasts and belly; her hands moving over her body in quick efficient moves. With a last scan, she dove quickly to rinse off. Surfacing near her dagger, she shook her head, and grabbed her blade. Moving back to the steps, she rose and dripped water over the marble floor. As she stepped inside her room, she shifted to a wary stance, her dirt caked clothing was missing, even her boots. The knife lay undisturbed against the wall. In place of her clothing, she found a white dress similar to what she’d seen the female Witches wearing.
She slipped over to her bag, and found that all her clothing was missing. Swallowing nervously, she glanced at the door to the hall, then at the dress. She couldn’t very well go out there without wearing something. Chasen pulled one of the blankets from the bed, wondering if Witches used towels or magic to dry themselves. She used the soft material to dry herself and her hair. Twining the length into a braid, she left the end loose, knowing it would hold while wet. Carefully pulling the dress from the hook, she slipped the silk over her head. It settled softly over her curves and muscles.
She felt the cool metal begin to heat as it touched her skin. She barely felt the silk as it whispered over her body. She felt even more naked than when she’d actually been unclothed. She tugged one of her belts from the floor, using the wet blanket to wipe off the road dirt. Slipping the leather over her hips, she cinched it tight and looped the extra in an elegant knot at her bellybutton. She studied her dagger sheath, and decided that since they hadn’t taken it she could wear it. It would at least make her feel more level and safe. Her fingers tied her dagger sheath to the belt, and she slid the translucent blade inside. Her hands smoothed the material over her hips. Flicking the pendants hanging about her neck, she closed her eyes briefly asking for help. Taking strength in the symbol of Hunters and familiar crags of her clockwork key, she moved to the door.
Sliding her hand over where a knob should be, the door swung open. In the hall stood a male Witch, his hand raised to knock. Chasen stomped the urge to step back from his large presence. He was very tall, towering over her. Granted she wasn’t an Amazon, but she wasn’t short either.
His lips spread in a wide white perfect smile, Chasen felt her hackle rise. “Hunter.”
Chasen drew herself to her full height, “Witch.” Her eyes cataloged his features. He wasn’t one of the Witches that had been in the courtyard when she’d arrived. A silver and blue glass drop hung from his left ear. It highlighted his blue grey eyes, causing them to seemingly blaze in his tan face. They were tilted cat like at the corners.
He stepped to the side to allow her out. She moved out the door, but kept him in her eyesight. His smile deepened, crooking his elbow to her in invitation.
She couldn’t think of a way to refuse the offer without causing offense. Chasen slid her hand through the crook, and moved with him down the hall. Her mind automatically taking in the halls and turns they took, even as she studied the man out of the corner of her eye. He had long dark hair as was common among Witches. Chasen had never seen any depictions of Witches with short hair. He wore an open shirt under a tailed jacket. The material was butter soft under her finger tips. The shirt displayed the firm planes of his chest. His skin was dark, a deep tan, also typical of Witches. They spent much of their time outdoors. He also wore comfortable looking pants. His feet were bare.
Chasen was surprised to realize he walked with the easy loose hip walk of someone comfortable with his body and movements. Few people moved in such a manner. It was a way that was typically reserved for those that fought and were highly attuned with their bodies. She hadn’t noticed other Witches moving in such a fashion in the garden earlier. But Chasen did recall that the Witches did have a fighting arm. Those that excelled in the physical realm and the Casting of fighting spells were sent to the Knight. She wondered if this Witch was one of the Knight’s on loan to the Duchess.
As they moved to the end of the hall, they stepped through another archway. This one led to a room that was filled with Witches seated among cushions, trays of food in hand as they ate and spoke to one another. All talk fell silent as Chasen entered with the He-Witch. Eyes turned and Chasen felt a subtle increase in hostility that had been absent that afternoon walking through the courtyard.
Nerves allowed the He-Witch to pull Chasen to an empty space where he sat her before disappearing. Chasen felt some relief that she was no longer under his blatant scrutiny. He made no secret of his study of her as they had moved silently though the halls. She felt her hackles rise again just as the He-Witch slide into the spot next to her, a tray balanced on his large palm with enough food for two.
Giving him a polite smile, Chasen ate enough to fill her hunger as she watched her surroundings. The He-Witch made no move to talk with her or any of the other Witches that seemed to be trying to signal to him to come to them. He continued to blatantly study her, his gaze direct and assessing. With great relief, he finished his meal and held his arm to her again, as the other gathered Witches began to file out. He led her through the halls and left her at her door. His parting smile amused. He dipped a bow before turning to stride away.
As she shut the door, Chasen realized they’d only exchanged two words and neither had spoken anymore since they met.