Sun Killer

“Elements of the earth, elements of the sky, please bring us your protective eye. Powers of feather and scale, I summon you. I call upon you to protect me. So it may be.”

A loud snort interrupted the quiet that had settled in the air of the dense forest path. Lada, in her infinite wisdom, kept her mouth shut and her energy focused on her spell.

“Do you always have to be an ass, Casimir? She asked us to be quiet.”

“Casimir quiet? I don’t think that’s in his capabilities.”

Gravel crunched as someone adjusted their stance. “It’s a waste of time and both of you know it.”

Lada sighed, giving up on strengthening her resolve. It would have to be enough.

“Just because you are not a follower of the Father doesn’t mean his power doesn’t exist,” Lada said, turning her pale blue gaze to Casimir who leaned against a tree - his expression boiling with extreme impatience.

“And have you ever seen this ‘Father'?” Casimir pushed himself off the tree, his hair on his half-shaved head flopping to one side. “It makes no sense to believe in something you don’t know is real.”

“Please don’t start this again, you two.” A woman an entire head taller than Casimir walked up between them, her blonde hair tied in a neat braid at the nape of her neck. “We need to reach the client’s home before nightfall.”

Lada agreed with a brisk nod, though she had to bite her tongue to prevent herself from defending her faith yet again from Casimir’s brain-dead accusations.

Casimir just grinned, throwing up his arms in surrender. “Fine, Danica, but only because I’m more excited to meet the sister witches than pissing Lada off again.”

Danica rolled her eyes and covered her face as Lada opened her mouth. “They aren’t witches!”

Another man who shared the same blonde hair and tall stature as Danica walked past the group, hiking a pack over one shoulder. “You never know, Lada. Maybe the locals know more than you do?” His voice was light and teasing; Casimir’s voice was like a grating piece of sandpaper in comparison.

Lada followed the man, picking up her own travel bag from the ground where she had stopped to cast her spell. “Or - Dragan - maybe the locals are making up stories to scare outsiders away from meddling in their business?”

Casimir and Danica grabbed their own belongings and followed the pair down the path.

Dragan laughed, leaning over to ruffle the top of Lada’s red locks with a gentle hand. “I mean, meeting a coven of witches would be more fun, but you could be right there, little logi.”

Lada huffed but smiled nonetheless at his nickname for her. It was hard to be cross with Dragan.

The group of four trekked down the gravel path until it turned to dirt and weeds. The sun was just beginning to burnish its red evening colors when they arrived at their destination.

The dwelling was further away from the town they had come from than the request had mentioned. Moss clumped together at the foundation of the cabin while bright flowering vines crawled up the walls. Off to the side, a wooden fence kept a pair of sheep in check, their wool coats recently sheared.

The parchment with the commission written on it was held up in Danica’s pale hand, her eyes scanning the details while looking at the overgrown cabin in front of them.

“This is definitely a witch's house,” Casimir commented.

Lada turned toward him, about to open her mouth until Danica shushed her.

“This is the place. They are offering a high reward for the commission, so be on your best behavior,” Danica reminded the pair, her eyes narrowing pointedly at Casimir.

His green eyes only portrayed mischief as he silently consented to the request while Lada pouted her lips.

Dragan laughed. “Well, shall we introduce ourselves?”

________

Dragan gently knocked on the door, then stepped back, putting his hands behind his back.

After a few moments, the sound of footsteps rattled the floorboards, and then the door was opened.

The smell of smoke and incense instantly assaulted Lada’s nostrils, causing her nose to itch. Framed within the wooden door frame was a woman with long, thick hair as black as night with several silver charms adorning her neck and wrists.

“Greetings, travelers. How may I help you?”

Lada’s heart stuttered as she looked up into the eyes of the woman - eyes like molten night or the endless depths of the blue sea. They gave off the slightest glow, something that would be far more noticeable if the setting sun weren’t so bright behind them.

Lada side-eyed her companions, but none of them showed any surprise or shock at the unnatural color of the woman’s irises.

Dragan dipped his head in greeting. “Good evening, ma’am. We’re here about the request you left in the town square earlier this morning.”

The woman’s eyebrows lifted, her mouth opening slightly. Clearly, she hadn’t been expecting anyone to come.

“Who’s at the door, Kupal?” A feminine voice from within the cabin asked.

The woman - Kupal - turned to look over her shoulder. “Sister, you were right. Someone came to help.”

The door was pushed open wider as a second woman squeezed through. She looked nothing like Kupal’s ‘sister’ however, as her hair was the color of wheat and her skin was gently tanned.

“Yes! Told you so!” She said to Kupal, her demeanor much more bright and energetic. She gestured eagerly to the four outside to come in, her dress a simple woolen green fabric over a cream skirt.

Dragan, Danica, Casimir, and Lada all filed in, surprised to see that the inside of the cabin was quite spacious. Despite the thick smell of incense, Lada could not see any burning.

“Thank you for inviting us in…Kupal, was it?” Dragan asked.

Kupal nodded, gesturing to make themselves comfortable. “Yes, I am Kupal, and that’s my sister, Zorya.”

Zorya waved from where she had taken a seat at a table in the center of the room.

Lada and Dragan both took seats at the table as well. Danica remained standing, her eyes scanning the room from behind Dragan’s back, while Casimir helped himself to one of the cushioned seats in the rear of the cabin - lounging as if he owned the place.

“I’m Dragan. This here is my sister Danica, and then we have Lada - our youngest, and Casimir - our loudest.”

Lada snickered while Casimir lowered himself further in his chair.

Zorya grinned. “I like them already, Kupal.”

“Indeed.” Kupal’s molten eyes flickered from person to person, landing lastly on Lada. Her gaze lingered a little longer than Lada could stand, forcing her to break eye contact with the woman lest she lose her nerve.

The door closest to Casimir’s seat opened then, revealing yet another woman whose skin was just as pale as Danica’s. She too wore plain clothing, though she wore a thick shawl over her thin shoulders.

She glared at Casimir before settling her eyes on the group around the table. “This them?”

“Yes! You -”

Zorya was cut off as the woman spoke. “They’re going to die.”

An awkward silence stretched wide in the cabin.

“Vechorka!” Kupal broke the silence with a severe expression. “That is no way to talk to our guests.”

Vechorka said nothing else before turning around and going back through the door she came out of.

“I’m - sorry. Excuse me,” Kupal said, leaving Zorya’s side and vanishing behind the door Vechorka left through.

Danica and Dragan exchanged a curt glance, while Lada’s skin crawled. She was beginning to have second thoughts about this request.

“I apologize…my sister is just very upset,” Zorya said, twiddling her thumbs on the table surface. “The commission…it’s to find our missing sister.”

“The poster said nothing about a missing person,” Danica said, her brow furrowing. “It only mentioned a wild animal that needed to be taken out for the safety of the villagers.”

“That’s why we chose to come,” Dragan explained. “We specialize in tracking and disposing of dangerous creatures.”

Zorya nodded, her jaw working in place. “That’s good because this is still a disposal request…of sorts.”

“Of sorts?” Lada asked, alarmed.

“Our sister, Poludnitsa…she is the monster we are asking you to kill.”

____________

Night quickly swallowed the world, leaving Lada to her wanderings at the edge of the campfire she and her companions had set up outside.

“Killing a witch…this has got to be a first,” Casimir said where he lounged near the fire.

“Not witches,” Lada muttered, though with everything she had seen and heard she was beginning to doubt her claim herself.

Danica frowned, poking a long stick into the dirt outside of one of the tents they had pitched up. “They are certainly tight-knit, and the way they have gone about this request…it’s clear they didn’t want to announce to the entire town that they are going to have one of their ‘siblings’ killed. Such a strict practice - it’s screaming a coven to me.”

Standing with his back to the group, Dragan stared at the Cabin, his arms crossed over his chest. “Usually covens have more members, especially since there is such a fear toward them from the common person. But the town…no one said anything when we asked about the commission.”

“But isn’t anyone concerned about what they said about Poludnista?” Lada spoke up. “That her power was a danger to the people living here? I thought witches were more like seers and menders - natural bridges and vocal points between our world and the realms of the afterworld - not walking destructive powerhouses!”

Casimir grinned. “You scared?”

Lada glared at him. “Scared for the people, and scared of what else Kupal, Zorya, and Vechorka are hiding. If they really are witches, one of their own going rogue shouldn’t constitute hiring professional hunters, would it?”

Dragan turned around, his eyes weary as they landed on Lada. “You saw something else, didn’t you?”

All eyes turned to Lada as she froze. How had he noticed?

“Ye-yeah, I did. But it seems like no one else did, so I thought it was just…a trick of the light or something.”

For once, no teasing remark came out of Casimir’s mouth. Instead, he leaned forward, showing a unique concern for the youngest member of their group. “You don’t get freaked out easily, Lada. What did you see?”

Lada lowered her blue eyes like the summer sky fading in the late twilight. Her hands wrung, and sweat sprung up on her brow. Those molten eyes…it felt like Kupal’s gaze had never left her.

“Kupal’s eyes…they were glowing.”

Danica set her poking stick down, resting her arms on her knees. “Kupal’s? They seemed like normal brown eyes to me.”

“Brown?” Lada’s heart skipped a beat. “They were a deep blue - glowing hot like molten fire.”

Casimir scratched his head in visible confusion. “Yeah, that’s not at all what I saw. Brown eyes, dark hair, silver bangles. Completely normal looking.”

Dragan walked over to where Lada sat and crouched next to her, his broad shoulders casting a wide shadow over the girl.

“That spell you cast earlier…do you think it didn’t reach the rest of us?”

“Yes, it’s possible,” Lada said. She was still learning the ways of the Father, and the various chants and spells that could be cast. In her haste to be done with the spell, she may have not extended it to her companions.

“Cast it again - on me this time.”

Lada frowned. “The spell will wear off before morning. You’re better off-”

“In the morning then,” Dragan conceded, backing up and sitting down at the fire’s edge. He sighed heavily, blowing air out of his lungs in a big rush. “Sorry, little logi, you’re going to have a big task tomorrow.”

_____________

“Elements of earth, elements of sky, please bring us your protective eye.”

This time, everyone was quiet as Lada cast her spell. To strengthen it, she also mixed soil, ash from their fire, and water together to make a thick paste, smearing it on each of her companions. Out of a pouch on her hip, she produced the feather of an eagle, its rich brown and white coloring gleaming in the early morning sunlight. In turn, she ran the feather down each of their eyes - an old practice that dated back to the time when the Father supposedly walked the earth.

“Um - good morning, everyone.”

Lada and the others turned to see Zorya standing alone at the edge of their camp. She was dressed in the same colors as yesterday but now had leather adornments almost like armor. One piece fell over her right shoulder and covered most of her chest, a thick strap holding it securely to her body. Another encircled her hips and held an assortment of pouches and tools.

It wasn’t armor by any means - it wouldn’t protect her from much if anything. On the leather, however, were mysterious engravings that Lada could actually recognize.

“Are those protection seals?” Lada asked, her excitement overcoming her suspicion at the strange appearance of Zorya.

Zorya’s pale green gaze widened and then thinned as she smiled. “Yes! My sisters and I employ the use of Zale’s teachings in our work - oh sorry, I suppose you know him as the ‘Father’.”

Casimir chuckled. “Wow, the dude’s got a name?”

Lada was shocked, her mouth opening and closing. “I-I didn’t know he had a name.”

Zorya waved their comments away nonchalantly. “Anyways, I came here this morning to accompany you, if that is acceptable?”

Danica looked skeptical, frowning at the woman. “I don’t think it would be wise -”

“It would be appreciated, thank you.” Dragan eyed his twin, giving her a curt nod.

Zorya nodded, clasping her hands together in front of her. “Thank you. I…I greatly appreciate your assistance. All of us do!”

Danica coughed pointedly at Dragan who had gone silent for a little too long.

“Ah, yes. Let’s get going, shall we? The first lead to her whereabouts that you brought up last night was the accounts of the farmers at the bank of the Berdea River.”

As the sun steadily rose, the group trekked through the woods on a small, thin dirt path with Zorya in the lead. Before the sun had reached the zenith in the sky, they had arrived at the golden wheat fields where farmers were just winding down, preparing for an afternoon break.

“Ah, Zorya!” One of the farmers called out, recognizing the woman on the spot.

He was younger than many of the others and had much lighter skin than his coworkers who all bore reddening tan lines. As he bounced through the tall stalks of wheat, Lada noticed that he looked quite flush in the face despite the mild temperature.

“Joseph!” Zorya grinned and gave the boy a hearty pat on the back. “How is your father fairing?”

The boy looked between Zorya and the hunters, his expression curious and weary. “He soakin’ in a cool bath right now, miss,” he said, lowering the straw hat on his head to his hands. “He woke up flustered and hot all over again.”

Zorya frowned but did not look surprised. “Keep him as cool as you can, and make sure he drinks as many fluids as he can withstand!”

Dragan took a step forward, getting the young boy to notice him. “Have any of you seen anything strange around the fields? Anything out of the ordinary?”

“The workers…those of us who tend the crops in the afternoons…we hear the screechin’ of a horrible woman, sir. I haven’t seen her myself, but others seen her in person. Say her eyes are all wrong, and that they burn their skin.”

“Shit.” Casimir mouthed, looking at Lada with wide eyes.

Lada felt goosebumps race up her arms. She turned to look over her shoulder at Danica, but the woman was already walking past all of them, unhooking several blades from her belt as she stalked between the fronds of wheat.

“I know it’s not appropriate,” Joseph continued, looking at Zorya with guilt in his gaze. “But some of us been callin’ her the sun witch. Is it true? Can a witch really do that?”

Zorya’s lips thinned. “No. Witches don’t harm humans.”

After a few more questions Joseph left, taking the rest of the workers with him to the farmhouses on the river's edge where they would rest until the hunters deemed it safe.

“You know the drill,” Dragan said to Lada and Casimir. “Divide and conquer, but keep within a reasonable distance. We’re looking for clues as to where it’s -” He paused, glancing at Zorya who had turned her back on them as they talked. “On her whereabouts.”

They split, but Lada walked to Dragan’s shoulder instead, pulling him aside.

“Something’s not right.”

“Pfft, you don’t have to tell me twice,” Dragan replied.

Lada tugged at his shirt sleeve. “I’m serious! Even Danica is acting weird.”

Dragan peered through the field ahead of them and watched as Danica paced obsessively up and down the lanes, her eyes sweeping every inch of land.

“She and I…we have a rough history with groups like these,” he admitted.

Lada’s eyebrows raised. “With covens?”

Dragan shook his head at Lada. “We can talk about this later. Let’s just get the job done, okay?”

Keeping secrets was very out of character for Dragan, but Lada wasn’t going to push him.

Yet, just as she turned to walk away, Dragan’s hand whisked the locks on her head in a teasing manner, yet his eyes were grave as he said:

“Be safe, little logi. You are the brightest spot in our lives. Understand?”

Lada nodded, her heart squeezing tightly in her chest. “Got it.”

The sun steadily rose to the highest point, the heat from the light soaking into Lada’s bones. There had only been a few clues here and there: a few missing farmer’s tools, a woolen scarf dotted with blood, and a lone sandal without its partner.

“Hey, Zorya, isn’t there supposed to be water in this well?” Casimir asked, pointing down into an old well lined with crumbling stone brick in the center of the field.

Zorya walked over, peering over the edge of the well. When she leaned back, her eyes were hard as ice. “Yeah. I helped fill it last week.”

The wind picked up then, harshly thrashing the field of wheat like individual strands of hair. With the wind came the smell of smoke and embers, and a slight herbal aroma that reminded Lada of the inside of the cabin.

Zorya gasped, reaching out and violently pulling Casimir away from the edge of the well, throwing him onto his backside as a torrent of heat and light erupted from the ground.

From the well emerged a visage of a screaming woman wrapped in electric blue flame that danced across her skin like gossamer. Her long hair waved wildly like the field of wheat around her, and her eyes blazed with that same fire that consumed her flesh.

Familiar blades whistled through the air, aiming true for the apparition’s head and heart, but in a burst of flame, the daggers flew straight through, landing uselessly in the fields beyond.

“Lada! Cloak our weapons!” Danica shouted, rushing forward with two more daggers.

Lada shook herself out of her shock and steadied herself. She gorged at the earth with her hands, words flowing from her mouth in a desperate chant.

“Earth and sky, hear me now - guide our weapons straight and true -!”

But the spell had no time to make its roots. Poludnista had raced straight to Lada as soon as she began the encantation, her fingers cloaked in flaming claws as they aimed at the young girl’s face.

Lada screamed as the sky became dark and blood ran freely down her cheeks and neck.

“Lada!”

“Fuck!”

“Dragan - with me!”

__________

Zorya stood frozen - horror eating away at her resolve. Her sister, once the heart of their covenant, was no longer the sweet, loving woman she used to know.

Her golden locks were that of roiling flame, her kind, warm eyes replaced by the heat of a thousand suns. Her fingers that used to knit scarves and weave charms from the pebbles in the river had sharpened into claws that dripped with the blood of the innocent.

Poludnista had broken their oath.

“Sister!” Zorya cried, falling to her knees in that god-forsaken field. “How could you?”

The child with the bright red hair who smelled of home lay still in the arms of her companion, Casimir, whose body shook with barely contained rage and also fear. Beyond him, Dragan and his twin Danica danced a deadly routine with Poludnista, their physical weapons useless against the power of a curse unleashed.

Dragan was knocked away easily, while Danica’s forearm burned as she tried to grapple the witch.

Poludnista then turned her rampage toward Zorya, the ground around her scorched black.

“Zzzzooorrrryyyyaaaa…” What came out of her lips was a mimicry of her voice - hissing and spitting embers like venom.

Her sister’s flaming form flickered, fading and then reforming in an instant.

“Thissss power - Zzzzooorya - it’s everythinnng…”

Zorya shook her head. With a deep breath, she too reached down into the earth, her fingers burying themselves into the fertile soil.

“Earth and sky, hear my cry. The sun is gone, and your daughters are lost…”

Heat rose within Zorya’s bones as she too rose to her feet. In the chaos, time slowed as she weaved her spell, the words forming like tiny dewdrops on her tongue.

“Sun killer, sing her to sleep…”

Poludnista screamed, grasping her head. Waves upon waves of electric blue flame slammed into Zorya’s body, but her flesh did not burn. The symbols painstakingly carved upon her leather adornments by her sisters glowed in response.

Zorya’s pale green eyes became molten, dancing flames erupting from her irises. With a gentle hand, she raised her palm to her sister’s breast, calling upon her soul to emerge.

Thus, the sun was swallowed whole, and the sun witch and her sister would burn no more.

__________

Voices echoed within Lada's conscious mind.

“By the gods, what happened? Quickly, bring her inside.”

Hands at her waist, hands holding her head like a newborn babe. Her friends cradled her.

“If we knew that your sister was the target - not only part of a coven for that matter - but a cursed as well? We would have never agreed to help you!”

Angry voices. So many angry voices. Yet, somehow, painfully slow, she began to retreat back into blessed silence.

__________

“I warned you all,” Vechorka spoke, her gaze shrewd and accusatory. “You were all going to die.”

“And Zorya?” Kupal interjected quietly. “Was a body left behind?”

Danica spat at the woman’s feet, refusing to answer, but Dragan replied.

“It was all flames and ash. I’m afraid we didn’t see anything left over.”

Kupal nodded, chewing on her fingernails as her gaze once more floated over to Lada who lay still in her bed.

“She was our sunshine,” she said, her voice quiet but humming with grief. “Poludnista was…she was our sun. The heart of - us.”

Danica glared up at Kupal, but her eyes glistened with unshed tears in her anger. Dragan said nothing, but he looked at Kupal with a similar grief-stricken look that encouraged her to continue.

“Zorya took up that role after Poludna - that’s our nickname for her - went missing last year. She tried so hard to keep a happy facade in front of us and our patients, but I knew she suffered inside, just like me and Vechorka.”

Vechorka glanced at Kupal, the coldness in her demeanor softening ever so slightly.

“And I can see that Lada is that sunlight for you all,” Kupal concluded, holding out her hand. “No normal medicine will save Lada from the wounds my sister gave her, but with your blessing, I can save her in a different way.”

Danica opened her mouth, looking outraged, but she was stopped by Casimir who had come into the space after overhearing Kupal’s offer.

“Do it. Whatever it is, do it.”

“Do you know what you’re asking, boy?” Vechorka gave a small smirk, her eyes remaining cold and unfeeling.

Casimir shook his head, his eyes lined in red. “No, I have no fucking clue, and I really don’t care.” He looked to his companions, holding out his arms in a plea. “Look, I know I was an asshole to her all the time, but she’s - she doesn’t deserve this!”

There wasn’t any argument against Casimir’s plea - even Danica caved, though she still shot glares at Kupal as she made her way to Lada’s bedside.

“Vechorka, keep them out. It’s going to be a long night.”

As the wooden door was shut, the group watched nervously as the closed entryway flooded with dark blue light.

_____________

Lada slowly came to consciousness, feeling like someone had just shoved all of her extremities full of heavy metal.

“Lada? Lada, can you hear me?”

“Ugh…” Lada groaned, finding it hard to open her eyes or move her hands. She was so sore. She couldn’t remember how she got here and why she was in this state.

There were soft gasps and one really loud ‘whoop’ of excitement. A pair of soft, cool hands gently rubbed her forehead and slid over her eyelids, giving her a burst of energy so she could finally open them.

The first face she saw was Danica’s, her brown eyes uncharacteristically swimming with moisture.

“You…Danica - why…you cryin’?”

Danica laughed, wiping her nose with a free hand. “You scared me, Lada! I thought- ”

“You were totally fucked up!” Casimir said, leaning in with a giant grin on his face.

Danica frowned. “Nice. Very tactful, Casimir.”

Dragan’s welcome laugh drifted down to Lada, and she smiled - a small, weak one but it was there - letting herself relax into the moment.

“I don’t know, Casimir, your ugly crying made you look way more messed up in my opinion.”

“Hey! We said we weren’t going to mention that!”

Lada’s eyes were fully functional now, and across the room, she could see one figure lurking - that of Kupal, the woman who had left the commission in the town square.

Memories came rushing back in a violent torrent; memories of darkness and splatters of blood so bright that they could have been mistaken for flower petals.

“Wait - where’s Zorya?”

Silence was her answer, and she didn’t need any of them to elaborate. In her heart, she already knew.

Kupal walked forward, producing a mirror from behind her back and presenting it to Lada. “Her light lives on in you, child of fire.”

Puzzled, Lada took the mirror and looked into it.

Her neck was completely ruined. Thick, ugly scars stretched and folded her skin into an unrecognizable texture. Her face was a bit better off with some minor scars here and there, but the tissue around her eyes looked even stranger.

It was like something had exploded, leaving a pale starburst pattern of scars around her eyes. And her eyes - by the Father - her eyes!

Like dark blue midnight - molten fire emerging from the deepest ocean depths - her irises stared back at her with surprise and shock.

She dropped her mirror and looked up at Kupal whose brown eyes warmed with her gentle smile.

“You’re home with your ‘coven’ now, Lada,” she said before turning away and leaving the hunters alone with their healed friend.

The smell of incense was almost gone now, but the sun was starting to peek into the living room, warming the ever-emptying quarters.

“You are just as soft-hearted as Zorya,” Vechorka commented as Kupal emerged from the bedroom.

Kupal smiled, reaching out to take her sister’s hand. “You would have done the same thing if it were me on that bed.”

Vechorka chuckled, resting her head on Kupal’s shoulder. “You’re right. I would.”

_________

If you wish to read the uncut version of Sun Killer, you can check it out below!