Witch of Fear [Mild horror, Isekai High Fantasy]

Everwatch burned. 

Timbers turned to aught but ash as dark smoke drifted high into the night sky, blocking out the gleaming starfield above. The swirls of gray and the orange of flame enshrouded the eyes of the heavens and gods alike. Far down below, the streets of mud and cobbled stone ran with so many streams of vibrant red. They pooled in eddies great and small around the readily cooling bodies of friend or foe. 

All was the same in death’s embrace.

Three hundred raiders had come across the shifting seas to crash upon this fortified town. They had burned and plundered their way through and what they could not steal; they broke. In the beginning, they had relished in the bloodletting, in the wrath unleashed upon the weakness they saw in the hastily formed militia. A stormed, burned gate and carved, bloody streets lay behind them. They had butchered with impunity.

However, now they fought a hard and desperate retreat. 

Skirmishes reignited all across the small town as mighty raiders clashed against the stalwart defense of the much more formidable adventurers. Outflanked and pinned, they caught the raiders. 

The main street had become a warzone.

A phalanx of spear and shield pushed hard against the mass of sea raiders, backed by the haunting melodies and song-spells. Archer fire raked the road in small volleys, leaving patches of dead and dying. Forced hard against this formation, the raiders sought the sides; but that was where the vanguard lay. 

Ready to cut them down.

Or at least that was the plan.

Pain. It pulsed through Autumn’s body as she stumbled from swirling, clawing smoke. Light of a blazing inferno lashed against her strained eyes, causing tears to spring forth. Down ash and blood-coated cheeks they rolled, carving a river. Autumn’s eyes were puffy and bruised; already one has nearly swollen shut. All she could see of the surrounding details was fire, rain, and blood.

At her feet was another charred and still smoking body; the remains of Pyre’s unfortunate foe. The sweet smell of cooked meat was overbearing, and Autumn’s chest heaved as she fought against the urge to vomit. A task made harder by the pulse of lancing pain that radiated out from her abused ribs.

Gasping in agony, Autumn cast about for the rest of her party. 

Crashing right into the middle of their foes had allowed the raiders to isolate them rather efficiently down the gore-slick street.

Nearest to them was Nelva. 

From behind a grim visor, she glared out at a trio of raiders nipping at her like hyenas. Spear and axe thundered down upon her shield, sending chips of bone flying as they cracked and skittered across its hard surface. She pressed her armored back defensively up against a charred, ashen wall.

Her sword was a viper; striking out with a lightning-fast bite. At the chevalier’s feet, a pair of bodies lay and spilled their guts into the sodden mud.

A stream of red betrayed her state; a lucky strike had slipped between plates of bone. She favored her wounded side, keeping her weakness away from the opportunistic aggressors.

Beyond her, Nethlia fought against the massive, lumbering form of a grizzly bear.

The ursine beast was massive, even when compared to the towering Inferni berserker. Locked in a battle of life and death, the two titans fought tooth and claw. Great hammering blows of iron struck its thick fur and fat to little effect. In return, it swung rending claws that opened up jagged, weeping wounds on her ruby-red skin.

Roars of fury erupted from both that shook the ground beneath.

Of the party's rogue, Autumn had no idea; the wayward pirate was nowhere to be seen. 

At first, Autumn didn’t see Edwyn. 

Craters of mud and rubble littered one side of the street, filled with gore and strange happenings. Frozen shards of ice still dripped with blood while tangling vines held aloft crushed limbs. 

It was only when she cast her hazy vision over the fallen bodies did she spot the Runecaster. There, lying in a pool of mud and blood, was Edwyn. A spear was driven straight through their gut and into the crumbling wall behind. Unused runes spread around them like cast knucklebones telling a terrible fortune. 

Blue eyes fluttered above a blood-caked beard. Edwyn weakly grasped onto the haft of the spear, struggling to free themselves. It was in vain. Strength had left them alongside the stream of scarlet. 

“Pyre! Edwyn’s hurt!”

Autumn’s voice was still croaky as she cried out to her friend. 

Seizing Pyre’s wrist, she hurried over. Her feet caught upon loose stones and mutilated bodies as she stumbled toward the dying Manus. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as their breaths became shallower and shallower. 

The pair crashed down into the befouled mud. Autumn ripped her Tome free and, with frantic fingers, paged through, looking for the spell she knew. Balanced on her knee, Autumn re-read the spell. She’d not had much opportunity to practice Delay Death, for obvious reasons.

“Hold on Edwyn! We’re not gonna let you die!”

Edwyn chuckled.

“Haha, don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere, they haven’t paid yet me.” 

She almost lost their soft mumbles amongst the shouts of combat and the clinking of potions in quivering fingers. Suddenly, their morbid laughter devolved into a series of coughing splutters. 

“Delay Death!”

Autumn knew she didn’t need to shout, but at the moment, it felt right. Fear coursed through her overwrought channels with a burn. A red-hot poker of pain dragged through her veins. Overcasting before had stretched her miniscule channels to their limits and, like a muscle, it tore to be built stronger again. 

It would still hurt like hell in the meantime. 

With a trepidatious heart, they watched as the blood that bubbled out around the spear slowed to a stop. Edwyn’s fate was postponed. However, Autumn knew it would only last a bare handful of moments. 

“Pyre. What do we do now?! Edwyn’s still got a spear in them, and this spell won’t last forever.”

Autumn’s words went unheard. Wide eyes of flame stared in horror at the mortal wound. Shock clouded her features. The sight before her was unfamiliar, and it was almost too much for the younger girl. White-knuckled fingers froze around a vial of glowing red liquid as the enormity of the task unveiled itself. 

Reaching over, Autumn shook the dazed healer. 

“Pyre! I need you to focus! Listen to my voice. Edwyn needs your help. I need your help. I know you can do this. You need to tell me what to do.”

Pyre gulped. 

A look of steely determination hardened across her face. Her flames grew ever hotter and brighter as she focused. She uncorked a healing potion that blossomed with the scent of strawberries and medicine. 

“Alright. Autumn, I need you to pull that spear free when I say. We need the wound clear or it’ll just close up around whatever’s stuck in there. I…I haven’t seen it myself, but I’ve heard it’s not pretty.”

Autumn nodded before turning to Edwyn. 

“Ok. Edwyn? We’ll be quick. Do you need something for the pain?”

“Grr. Whiskey. On my belt.” 

Quickly rummaging, Autumn found a pair of stone bottles. Opening the heavy lids, the powerful smell of liquor flowed freely. She carefully fed Edwyn before washing her hands with the rest, much to the Manus’ horror. With gritted teeth, the spellcaster gave her a weak thumbs up.

“Ach, do it!”

Autumn seized the spear as best she could with only one hand, having to wrap an arm around it, to Edwyn’s muffled protests. 

“Pull it now!”

On Pyre’s mark, she wrenched the spear free. An agonizing scream tore through clenched teeth. The spear fell to the side with a clatter, smeared with gore and torn organs. 

Autumn fought the urge to vomit. 

Edwyn’s guts had to be stuffed back inside their splayed open abdomen as quickly and carefully as they could manage. A splash of healing potion coated the ripped intestines, sealing them shut. Another splash caused muscle, sinew, and skin to mend before their eyes at a rapid pace. The last few dregs ended up poured down Edwyn’s raw throat.

With a heave, Edwyn spat out a lung full of blood and phlegm off to the side. .

“Arch…Thanks. Now gae an help the others…A’ll juist, rest here a moment.”

With Edwyn now stabilized, Autumn turned her attention to the ongoing fights. Not much had changed since she last looked. A trio of fighters still surrounded Nelva while Nethlia battled against a mighty bear. 

Autumn raised her wand up. 

There was nothing left in her tank; all her power spent. However, all was not lost, for the air roiled with a town’s worth of stark terror. Like a dense fog, it drifted over the burning fires. With desperation, she pulled as much as she could down and into her wand arm and like a gunshot, a jinx rocketed across towards those who threatened Nelva.

It missed.

The blast splashed across the wall beside them, but it was enough to make them flinch. 

Nelva struck in an instant.

One raider dropped to the sodden mud, clutching at their burbling throat. A crimson grin grew beneath pallid fingers. Nelva attempted to strike the others, but her wound slowed her and they danced out of reach. 

Without a word, they turned and ran.

Autumn collapsed back into the mud and gore as her arm hung limply at her side. Pushing that last attack out was a mistake as the feeling of a thousand angry ants marched up and down her veins. The channels had finally torn and, until they healed, Autumn could not cast.

She was officially out of the fight.

As she lay in the scarlet mud, she watched as Nethlia roared, blinded by rage. The berserker thrashed against the ursine beast, pummeling it with nearly ineffectuality strikes. Still, the bear rocked with the blows. 

Angered by her continued defiance, it rose and slammed down upon her. Nethlia’s heels dug into the mud as she held the bear at bay. Her muscles strained. Her hand clenched tight around the bear’s paws. With gritted teeth, she pushed it back with surprising, herculean strength.

Whether she could have finished the bear alone, they’d never know, for a white blade severed one straining leg clean from its paw. Fur, muscle, and bone parted with contemptuous ease.

With a roar of agony, it stumbled back. 

Another swipe cleaved the other leg, and it fell with an enormous crash that shifted the ground underneath. Confused, hurt, and fearful, it glanced over at what had harmed it so. 

There stood Liddie, unruffled despite the carnage abound. A gleaming smile traced her lips. A blade of pure white metal whistled as she swirled her wrist.  

“...and Liddie Eastoft saves the day once more, and the crowd goes wild…roarrrr.”

Liddie danced away from a swiping claw before she separated that too. Her grin was vicious as she taunted the dying creature. 

Nethlia stood nearby, huffing as steam wafted off her body. Eyes burned into Liddie with fiery rage. With a sundering crash, her polehammer cracked into the bear’s skull over and over till it lay still and dead.

“That. Was. My. Kill.” 

Nethlia’s voice was like a thunderstorm as she rounded on the lackadaisical pirate. The two stood inches apart and their height couldn’t be more obvious. Gritted teeth shone in the fight light along with tensed muscles.

Liddie just smirked up at her.

“What? Not even a thank you? Maybe later you can buy a girl a stiff drink?”

With murder in her eyes, Nethlia backed down and wrestled with her growing fury. As she saw the raiders fleeing into the distance, she grasped her weapon with tight hands. The wood creaked under the strain. With thunderous steps, she started stalking after her prey.

“Wait!”

Autumn called out, to which Nethlia spun.

“WHAT?!” 

The air cracked under the force of her shout. 

Autumn flinched back. Her heart hammered in her chest like rapid hoofbeats. Cowering slightly, she gestured around to the rest of the party. 

“We…we can’t move. They wounded most of us and Edwyn can’t even walk…they nearly died. We have to…to…regroup or something.”

Autumn crushed the sob that burbled up.

Around her, the rest of her group slumped. Nelva clutched at her side while Pyre attempted to quell the blood flow with gauze and sparing drops of healing potion. Edwyn lay still in a pool of gore, barely staying awake. Only Liddie had really escaped any sort of injury. Even Nethlia herself displayed plentiful weeping cuts.

And it wasn’t just them. 

The beaten, assaulted, and ultimately captured demonic residents of the town still lay bound along the roadside where they fell. Somehow, they’d miraculously survived the escalating violence unscathed. At this moment, they were all staring at the wounded and arguing adventurers in a mixture of gratitude, caution, and fear.

They treated Autumn, the human, with far greater suspicion and fear.

Nethlia snarled at the escaping raiders.

“Fuck! Fine! Fine. Let’s head back then. Maybe one of the other teams can spare a cleric?”