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Witches' Thralls - Chapter 8
🕑 Added 2024-04-09 03:31:52 +0000 UTCThe half-elf rolled her shoulders and began hopping in place. “Oh, like hell I’m letting a pretty little teacup out-woodsman me.”
“W-wait!” Lyselle protested as the half-blood bolted forward.
It was no use. Talia had already pulled herself up into the tree she’d leaned against and scampered down its hefty bough. The pair could only watch as the woman vaulted through the branches overhead and vanished into the woods, the sound of rustling bushes and shaking trees rapidly quieting into the distance ahead of them.
“Okay, cool, you do that.” Auna tilted her head towards Lyselle as the Terran stepped up beside her. “She’s… heard about all the monsters and shit out here, right?”
“She has,” Lys answered. “There was a whole lecture about ‘vibes.’”
“Ah.”
The pair stood for a moment, listening as Talia’s movements faded even further into the distance.
Suddenly, something clicked with Auna, the demoness’s head whipping towards Lyselle as she barked, “Did you say ‘vibes?’”
Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud snap and the sound of Talia screaming in the distance.
“Oh, she is so fucked.” Auna held out her hand, manifesting a sparkling crystal wand. “Stay behind me.”
Light quickly built within the wand, streaming from its origin at the demoness’s palm and up to the crystal’s tip.
“Ajuegil!”
The command came alongside a quick flick of her wrist, and the energy in the wand was shot forward into the ground. The earth rumbled beneath them, the barely-maintained foot trail of orange and yellow grass parting with an earthen roar to reveal the root-woven soil below. As the gap widened, the bushes ahead pulled apart, branches and roots snapping and falling into the freshly-torn rift as the undergrowth was spread aside. Within seconds, a path forward was cleared.
In the distance Talia yelped, shouting something at her assailant.
“Come on,” Auna barked, rushing down the newly-carved trail with her wand still lit in her grasp.
“R-right,” Lys stammered, taking a moment longer than she’d have liked to convince her own legs to carry her forward. Not that I’m going to be able to do much to help by comparison…
Three wannabe witches, set loose in a forest full of unknown hazards and aggressive creatures? What's the worst that could happen?
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